


From Desert to Sea

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: CSI: Miami, NCIS
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/F, Foursome - F/F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-15
Updated: 2010-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having found each other, Sentinel Ziva and Guide Natalia, along with Calleigh and Abby, further navigate the intricacies of their newly formed relationships while trying to determine exactly what city they'll settle in as their territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Primary Pairings:** Calleigh/Natalia/Ziva/Abby [and all variations therein]  
>  **Secondary Pairings:** Dace/Catherine, Dace/Sara, Sofia/Sara, Dace/Sofia, Horatio/Marisol  
>  **Date Written:** 1 June to 15 September 2010  
>  **Word Count:** 22424  
>  **Written for:** [](http://ladiesbigbang.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ladiesbigbang**](http://ladiesbigbang.dreamwidth.org/) 2010  
>  **Series:** Light, Water, Muses Book 11: Confluences  
>  **Sequel:** to Fox and Caracal { [DW](http://ariestess.dreamwidth.org/1066173.html) || [LJ](http://ariestess.livejournal.com/1070318.html) }  
>  **Summary:** Having found each other, Sentinel Ziva and Guide Natalia, along with Calleigh and Abby, further navigate the intricacies of their newly formed relationships while trying to determine exactly what city they'll settle in as their territory.  
>  **Spoilers:** Season 4 forward of _NCIS_ doesn't happen in this AU, as Ziva and Abby are in Miami. Consequently, Gibbs, Tony,  & McGee are in upstate NY, tho' this isn't as vital a piece of information for this particular story as would be expected. Roughly covers the first 4 episodes of _CSI: Miami_ season 5, but as an AU.  
>  **Warnings:** BDSM, knife play, blood play, major character death, polyamory, mentions of abusive relationships  
>  **Website:** ShatterStorm Productions – Light, Water, Muses  
>  **Link to:** <http://lwm.shatterstorm.net/>  
> **Archive:** ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission  & we'll see…
> 
> Complement by [](http://trascendenza.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**trascendenza**](http://trascendenza.dreamwidth.org/)
> 
> Disclaimer: "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions. "CSI: Miami," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, Touchstone Television, The American Travelers, and CBS Productions. "The Division," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Lifetime Television, Kedzie Productions, Viacom Productions, and Paramount. "NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Belisarius Productions, Paramount Network Television Productions, Paramount Television, and CBS Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," "CSI: Miami," "The Division," "NCIS," CBS, Lifetime, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: All original characters belong to ShatterStorm Productions and are the creations of A. Magiluna Stormwriter and Shatterpath. They also belong in the Light, Water, Muses universe, tho’ this is a standalone within the whole of that universe.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This is a continuation of and sequel to the story "Fox and Caracal", which first introduced the idea of Ziva and Natalia as a Sentinel/Guide pairing, with Calleigh and Abby rounding out their foursome. In other words, the OT4. Eventually, we'll be detailing out the entirety of the fifth season of _CSI: Miami_. Writing this was, as always, a lot of fun and a lot of hassle, which is very typical of this particular AU. Maybe that's why I keep writing it… This story does include revised interpretations of two previous stories, "[Falling Hard](http://lwm.shatterstorm.net/reverberations/falling.html)" and "[From Desert to Sea](http://fsac.shatterstorm.net/yule2009/entries/12-04.html)".
> 
> Dedication: To my muses. I’d be nowhere without them.
> 
> Beta: Many thanks to [](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**shatterpath**](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/), who is beta, cheerleader, co-author, EPiC, and the best other half in the world…
> 
> Hebrew used  
>  _chatatula_ :: kitten  
>  _chaverah_ :: my friend  
>  _neshama sheli_ :: my soul  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
> 

Hi Gibbs! It's me, Abby. Or should I try for all formal like and start this with, Dear Mister Gibbs… Kidding! So, it's been awhile, huh? I hope you guys are settled in at Eastland and keeping all those spoiled rich kids in line. Do you like being in a mentor-teachery position? I bet you're really good at it. Don't let any of those punks push Tim around and make sure that Tony behaves. 

Living in the desert is totally weird. Really, I don't have good words for how weird it really is. Sure it's hot and kinda empty and all of the things that you'd expect for a desert, but there's also something appealing about it. There's a regularity of how the natural pace of the place works, like a steady heartbeat. As for work? Well, I really like the Las Vegas crime lab, they have some amazing and competent people here, but is it wrong for me to admit that I miss being special? I mean, there's a whole lab of people here who are so good at what they do that I sorta blend in. If you can imagine that! However, I have to admit that we get an amazing amount of work done. 

Part of me wants to go back the east coast, but probably not DC again. Really, wouldn't that be like a step back? If it weren't for all that evil, healthy sunshine, Miami might be fun…

Speaking of Miami, the girls are doing great. It's kinda a shame that you didn't get a chance to know Nat and Cal, they're really great! Smart, successful, gorgeous and all that good stuff. Living on this great ranch out in the desert makes everybody loose and sensual, even Ziva! Dace has her all set up and everything to have some real adult fun. Oh, they're being all sneaky and stuff, but isn't that part of the thrill? Tell Tim to write me separately if he wants details, 'cause I know better than to squick you. Let's just say there are some real nice job perks in being a member of such a sexy pack!

Is Tony doing good? And Tim better be behaving himself! I miss you guys sooooooooo much! We'll come visit soon once we know where we're going to end up and Ziva gets her own territory.

Love you!  
Abby


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings :: Elements of BDSM

++ Sara Sidle ++

(9-15-06)

Nervous and sweaty-damp with anticipation, I pace back and forth in the mock interrogation, waiting to see what will happen. This most reclusive of the various House of Hearts playgrounds has been mocked up to represent a variety of fetish spaces, including a third world POW camp and a variety of police interrogation rooms. It is the latter that contains me currently: a boring, square space painted an unobtrusive, dusky green, populated with a table, two chairs, and a two-way mirror. The similarities to the rooms I work in on a daily basis are minimal at best, but the semi-familiar space is a blessing to my sensibilities. It would be sheer torture to have to work at the lab and be bombarded by thoughts of everything that will happen this afternoon running through my brain all the time.

I know Daddy and Ziva have worked out more details to this scene than I have been privy to, and I can't stop the butterflies in my stomach. Daddy has been uncharacteristically evasive about the specifics, wanting me to react as naturally as possible to wherever this scene is headed. The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I've been on edge lately, and no one can come up with anything that will calm me down. Even Sofia is practically beside herself. Many years have passed since this restless, dangerous feeling has last plagued me, and if we can't figure out what to do about it, it could become a serious issue within my pack.

Willing myself to take a deep, calming breath to settle my nerves, I study this room where Daddy, Bane, and Fetch have all taken their turns playing with me in the past. That flat, haunted expression gazing back at me from the mirror bothers me. There is no reason to feel the way I've been feeling lately. I love my packmates, my chosen family, and my life is good on all fronts.

What is wrong with me?

The door opens, jerking my thoughts back to the present, and I blink at Ziva. This woman has been a fascinating enigma ever since that day three months ago when she walked into our lives, looking for her missing partner, Sentinel abilities notwithstanding. She strides into the room, all seriousness and precisely coiled tension, and very gently sets a battered file box on the table. Butterflies surge into frenzied flight in the pit of my stomach as she looks up at me, dark eyes probing. The sensation of utter nakedness under that intense scrutiny is almost uncomfortable, and I can't help crossing my arms somewhat defensively across my chest. When she quirks a curious brow at me, I force my arms back to my sides, inwardly cursing at the flush I feel warming my cheeks.

"Dace requested my presence in this scene," she begins in a low, even tone. "Because I have not done this one on one before, particularly with you, I require your assurance that you will be absolutely honest with me. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," I reply without thought, feeling my well-trained body keying up already. The relief that I can still respond like this is palpable.

"What are your safe words?"

I hesitate for a moment, debating this. I've always used something from work, normally Grissom's and Ecklie's names, but somehow that doesn't seem appropriate today. That is the set of safe words that I use with those people I'm privileged to play with, but don't live with. Even in public scenes with Dace, I use that set of words. But this isn't really a public scene, nor is Ziva someone that… Taking a deep breath, I make the decision to use the private set of words, the words that only a handful of people have ever heard. "DUI for my slow-down word and Tamales for stop," I finally whisper past the tightness in my throat.

"I did not catch that," she replies, eyes narrowing as she continues to study me levelly. "You need to speak up so I can hear you without my enhanced hearing, Sara, or this will not happen."

Caressing blue eyes are an almost physical sensation, despite the fact that Dace isn't here in the room with us. That power, like fire and ice, wills me to follow my training, and I find strength in her silent support. Clearing my throat and blinking a couple of times, I repeat the words in a louder voice. Ziva doesn't react for long moments, making me squirm, before nodding slowly, but does nothing more until I sit down.

"Slow-down is Tony, stop is Todd," she replies quietly, and the raw edge on that final name certainly piques my curiosity, making me file it away for future reference. Shaking off the sudden melancholy, Ziva moves around the table to take her own seat across from me, and surprises me by reaching over the wooden surface to cover my hands with her own. "Sara, take a deep breath and relax," she coaxes in a low voice, supportive and comforting to my raw emotions. "We are not going to do anything you are not comfortable with. Dace, Sofia, and I had a long talk about this, and Tessa has provided me with a few worthy practice runs." A lovely smile warms her face. "Take a moment and prepare yourself. When you are ready, meet my gaze and we will begin. This will only stop when it has played out, or one of us uses the safe words. Yes?" After a quick squeeze of my fingers, she pulls away to lean back arrogantly into her seat.

Nodding, I lean forward, forehead resting in my hands for a moment, feeling the lingering warmth of her touch. Eyes closed, I try to will the butterflies in my stomach to go away so that this will work out in the ways I need it to. A small part of me wraps around my safe words, memorizing hers by rote; these are all kept close until they're needed, if they're in fact needed at all. I sincerely hope it doesn't come to that, but I won't be so stupid as to ignore that necessity as I have in the past. I can trust Ziva not to go too far, right? She's a Sentinel and wouldn't hurt me unnecessarily. Would she? Daddy wouldn't let her near me if she wasn't trustworthy.

And speaking of Daddy… She expects something out of me, both as a lover and a friend. Why else would she choose this new person in our lives to give me a new space to play in? Maybe, just maybe, this new play space with Ziva can help me find a way out of this restless disassociation that's plagued me.

Taking a steadying breath, I lean back in the chair, arms resting on the table, and meet her gaze openly, willingly.

++ Ziva David ++

When Dace and Sofia had first approached me with this little idea of theirs, refusal was instantly on my lips. Role-playing has never been something I choose to do in my free time; I have done more than my share of it while working as a Mossad agent under my father, and even a bit while on Gibbs' team. In the end, I finally agreed, but only after a great deal of discussion with Natalia, Calleigh, and Abby first; they are my pack, my family, and I will do nothing now without their knowledge and involvement. Abby, in particular, was very interested in this whole BDSM scene, and practically begged for the chance to watch. It took some time to get Natalia comfortable enough with me doing this; I did not previously know the depths of abuse she had suffered at her husband's hands. He will be lucky to never meet me; I cannot guarantee that I will be able to stop myself from exacting revenge on him for my beloved Guide.

While we still have been very reluctant to fully consummate our bond, I could not be closer to another person if I tried. And yet, there has been sexual intimacy between the four of us, a strange and wonderful blending of four women into what will only continue to grow toward an indelibly intertwined union of bodies, minds, and souls. If I have learned nothing else in the aftermath of what happened to Tony, I am acutely aware of the valuable lesson about not ignoring what is important to me.

It seems as if I have been participating in interrogations practically since I could walk, but none of those were pleasure-based, although I have always derived a certain satisfaction from a well-wrought interrogation. But to take a sexual thrill from it is definitely new territory for me, while not wholly unwarranted. I did not lie to Sara about never having done this before. Granted, Dace and Sofia have given me several trial runs with Tessa, to varying degrees of successfulness; the woman was born to submit and nearly made me melt at the sublime joy of learning this new facet of myself. From Tessa, I have truly learned the pleasures of pressure.

Within context, of course.

While Sara mentally prepares herself for what is going to happen today, I idly sift through the items in the file box; the maneuver is simply to re-familiarize myself with the props supplied for me to play out this little game. It also gives me a few moments to run the scenario through my mind again, making sure nothing is forgotten. Thankfully, the two blondes in Sara's life have gone over this with me several times, and thoughtfully left me cue cards with some of the items.

My gaze flickers up to the two-way mirror to my left where I know the two instigators are watching us. They have been very curious about the eventual outcome of our scene, on both a visceral and an emotional level. Both care very deeply for Sara and want to make sure she is happy and healthy, as her recent agitation has been worrisome to all parties. Dace believes that Sara is having a difficult time submitting to Tops other than herself and Anastasia, in part because she gets caught up in her tormentor. I am the first to dominate the woman, who has not come from her pack's immediate sphere of influence.

From the corner of my eye, I see Sara moving to lean back in her chair with entirely false nonchalance. When she raises dark eyes to meet mine, I can see the determination to succeed shining back at me. Swallowing a competitive, triumphant smile, I slip into character more easily than I would have thought, given the circumstances.

"I assume you know why you are here," is my opening salvo, voice modulated to the calmest end of my 'do not fuck with me' tone.

"I have no idea," she adds to the game a bit defensively. "All I know is that I got pulled away from work and escorted down here."

"Really? You have no idea why you are here?" When she shakes her head, I allow a brief smile to cross my face. "I am here on behalf of Detective Sofia Curtis." This revelation takes her completely off guard. Excellent. "It appears that you have been doing more than just letting your eyes occasionally wander."

A blink of surprise, just the barest flicker of realization in the depths of her eyes, and Sara is lamely trying to explain herself. "I, um, I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

I lean over the table, smile genial with a sharp edge of danger. "Oh, come now, Sara, you can be honest with me. Detective Curtis is a very beautiful woman, is she not? I am sure she has become used to having people stare at her." And then my voice hardens. "But that does not give you the right to make her feel uncomfortable, does it?"

"What? I didn't--"

"Did you think you could do it and not bring it to the attention of your Daddy? Do you think she enjoyed finding out that your eyes have been wandering? That she is not enough to keep you satisfied? That you have practically resorted to stalking to assuage your cravings?"

++ Candace "Dace" Bogart ++

I stare at Ziva for a long moment, despite knowing she can't see me doing it. "Did she just--?"

"Yep," Sofia giggles, trying -- and failing -- to swallow her amusement. "Assuage her cravings? Oh, that's good!"

Rolling my eyes at my packmate, I roughly yank her into a headlock, grinning at the squeak of surprise, as we watch Sara's reactions. This early into the game and she's already restlessly shifting in her chair. So far, my idea appears to have been a sound one, despite the riskiness of the gamble. Ziva is a true wild card: funny, interesting, exotic, and utterly dangerous. There is so much riding on what plays out on the other side of the glass, so much time and trust and love. Hopefully, Sara will feel calmer again once this is over.

"I am not a stalker," my sweet kitten retorts sharply to Ziva's accusation. "I don't know where you're getting that from, but it's not true."

Ziva snorts and pulls out a manila folder, tossing it onto the table with a heavy slap that has the pictures spilling out. "These would tell another story, Miss Sidle."

The collection of pictures is very familiar to me from hours spent pouring over them with Tessa before Darci began her magic work on them. While none have been doctored in the most extreme sense of the word, almost all have been modified. With shaking fingers, Sara leans forward to gather the scattered glossies, leafing through them. Even seemingly innocent shots take on a whole new meaning in the light of these new allegations from Ziva. It's a pain in the ass to get a really good look at Sara like this, with her face in profile and half-hidden by her hair, so I flare my nostrils and dial up my sense of smell. Curiosity mingles with her awakening arousal.

"Where the hell did you get these?" Sara continues to flip through the pictures over and over again, occasionally stopping to stroke one or another. "How long have you fuckers been following me? This isn't even legal, you know. I haven't been arrested or read my Miranda rights. You can't hold me unless you do."

Ziva blinks placidly at her, and I find myself more than a little impressed with her flawless charade. Must be hell on perps. "If you really want me to arrest you, I can do that," she finally replies calmly, evenly, voice never losing that edge of danger. "At the moment, I am merely here at the request of Detective Curtis to warn you to stop this folly. You really are on a wild moose chase if you think anything will come of it." Ah, there it is, the mangled idiom that seems so real. The thrum of Sara's chuckle carries through the speaker and vibrates the glass faintly. A look of self-disgust crosses Ziva's face before she suddenly springs into action, hands slamming down on the tabletop. "What is so funny?" The movement is so sudden, Sara jerks back in her chair, clearly startled. "Do you think this is all a game?"

"N -- No, ma'am," Sara stutters. "But -- but I'm not stalking Sofia."

With a roll of her eyes, Ziva leans away from the table again, using her attitude to make herself more intimidating. Always an effective trick. "Of course you are not. Those pictures are lying, right? Give me a break, Sidle! How about this?" Out of the box comes another folder. Flipping it open, she points to the pages inside. "Your fingerprints were found all over Detective Curtis' desk and locker. Even inside her locker. How do you explain that?"

Sara shakes her head. "No, you don't understand. I've gotten things from Sofia's locker for her many times. Left things on her desk: coffee, soda, food… flowers." The last word is so soft, I barely hear it with my Sentinel hearing, and I highly doubt even Ziva has heard it clearly.

++ Sofia Curtis +

Did Sara just say something important? Judging by Dace's expression, she just might have, but when no information is forthcoming, I shrug and remind myself to ask her about it later on.

"And what about this?" Ziva digs into the box again and pulls out my favorite blue button-down shirt, pointing to the collar where a smear of lipstick can be seen. I smirk at the sight of that reddish stain, remembering vividly the night that Sara had put it there. It was the first time that Dace had "allowed" us to play without her supervision. I'd practically passed out from the sheer creative sensuality Sara had displayed.

Sara's sudden movement brings me back to the present as she jumps up to pace back and forth, fingers roughly running through her hair. "I'm not stalking Sofia!" she growls. "What is it going to take for you to understand that?"

"The evidence shows that you are stalking her, Miss Sidle." Now Ziva's on her feet, standing directly in Sara's path, and more intimidating than someone her size has a right to be. "So unless you can give me a good alibi against all of these allegations, I will have to turn in my findings to both Detective Curtis and your Daddy. And I am sure you understand that your Daddy will be quite displeased by this. You belong to her, Sara Sidle. That is why you wear this, is it not?" Abruptly, the collar glinting against Sara's throat is hooked by an elegant finger, roughly pulling the taller woman down into her personal space. The three tags of ownership and protection chime softly as Ziva's fingers disturb them away from Sara's skin.

As strongly as Sara flinches at that, I half-expect to hear one of her safe words. Without thought, I stretch out a hand to grip Dace's forearm where it rests around my neck. She needs grounding just as much as Sara does right now. It won't do either of them any good if Dace goes charging in that room without just cause. Slowly, her muscles relax as Sara glances up at the mirror for a moment, as if trying to find Dace and convey that she's okay.

"I don't do anything that would jeopardize my relationship with my Daddy," she says in a low, clear voice. "Every single time I've had anything to do with Sofia outside of work, Daddy has either been there or has given me permission to play."

With startling quickness, Ziva's hand opens enough to shove carefully at the base of Sara's throat, closer to collarbones than windpipe, causing Sara to stumble backward. With little more than a squeak of surprise and a flawless twist at the chunky silver collar, Sara is on her knees, eyes wide.

"Nice," Dace breathes in admiration, and I quirk an unconscious smile, totally caught up in the action.

++ Abby Sciuto ++

Ugh… Why is it that I keep having issues doing my job here in Las Vegas? I never had this kind of issue back in DC when I was working for NCIS. It’s so… limiting here. How am I supposed to be doing just one thing? I did it all for Gibbs without any issues. It's gotta be the Caf-Pow! Somehow, it's not the same out here in the desert; it's just not as potent as I'm used to. Or maybe it's the fact that Gibbs and Tony and McGee aren't bringing it to me. Grissom's so different, so stoic and standoffish. I don't like that. And that Hodges guy? He's a creepy little bastard; always trying to hit on me and Nat. He'd better hope that Ziva never finds out about that, or they might not find all the pieces she leaves behind.

Driving through the break in the fence, I continue on toward our bungalow. I'm thoroughly exhausted from working the overtime to help out with cold case backlog. They may be the second best lab in the country, but there are some really stupid procedures they have in place. I'm just sayin'… But as I step out of the car, bracing myself for the heat, I take a deep breath and do my best to shrug off the hassles of the lab. I'll be really happy when we decide where we're gonna live. I know we're not staying here. Please, God, don't let us stay here. It's way too sunny and bright for my own good.

Stopping on our little porch to close up my parasol, I plaster on a happier smile than I feel and step into this temporary home of ours. And stop dead in my tracks as I see Catherine heading toward the bedroom with three glasses of something or other.

"Hey, Abby," she says in that warm, "Mom" tone that makes me feel all happy inside. "You're home awfully late, aren't you?"

"Overtime," I reply, setting my parasol on its hook by the door. "I know you guys have a great lab and a great solve record for your team, but how can you only do one thing at a time?" She chuckles at that, knowing this argument of mine very well. "So, um, what're you doing here? I mean, not that I don't like you or anything, but shouldn't you be sleeping or something?"

Rolling her eyes, she motions for me to follow her back to the bedroom. "Maybe we have been overworking you. You really don't remember that today's the day--"

And then it hits me.

"Ziva's Topping Sara today, isn't she?" I ask, voice going all squeaky with excitement. "Are they doing it now?"

Catherine nods, an indulgent look in her eyes. I don't know if that's for me or for Sara at this point, and I'm not really sure I care either. "I made a promise that I'd sit with Calleigh and Natalia while the others play. It doesn't really do much for me, but I know it's something that Dace and Sara really like, so I give them free rein in that arena when they need or want it."

Without hesitation, I step into the bedroom and stop in my tracks at the sight before me. Cal and Nat are curled around each other in the bed, lazily kissing and stroking each other. The smell of sex in the room is like that sharp tang of ozone jut after lightning has struck. Oh wow! If they're getting all hot and horny in here, what the hell is going on in the playspace?

Heading over to the bed, I barely resist the urge to pounce on them. Instead, I curl up behind Natalia, pulling them both as close as I can, despite the covers bundled around them. Calleigh lifts her head to meet my gaze, and I nearly forget how to breathe at the intensity in those smoky jade eyes of hers. We've only been sleeping together for a couple months now but, damn, can she turn me on in a heartbeat or what?

Dimly aware of Catherine closing the door behind her, I lean over to nuzzle a kiss behind Nat's ear, fingers twining with Calleigh's. There are fine tremors running along the length of Nat's skin that I can feel. She's so torn about this whole BDSM thing that Dace and Sara are into, and I totally get why. But at the same time, here she is, all warm, and sweaty, and hot as hell from the fun, sexy times she and Calleigh have obviously been distracting themselves with.

"Have you seen them yet?" she asks softly.

"Nope. Just got back from the lab and wanted to shower and check in on you two before I did anything else."

"Calleigh and Catherine have been keeping me company." At my knowing chuckle, Nat turns and slaps at my shoulder. "Not like that, you perv. Well, okay, Calleigh's been doing that, but not Catherine."

"Not that you'd have noticed," Calleigh quips, a teasing smirk quirking her lips. "I mean, with the way you were screaming like a banshee a few minutes ago, I'm surprised she didn't try to either join us or knock us out."

Cackling delightedly, I snuggle closer and let my hands roam a bit over both of my girls. And as much as I want to go see what Z's doing to Sara, right now I need to be here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings :: Elements of BDSM, knife play, blood play

++ Sara ++

Sent heavily to my knees by the hard hand at my collar, I wince slightly as dull pain blossoms from the contact with the industrial mats on the floor. The rough treatment only fuels the thrill singing in my veins. I wasn't privy to the play sessions between Ziva and Tessa, so I've had no idea what kind of Top she would be; that very uncertainty is making me even hotter than I'd expected. There is no use in biting back the whimper of need clawing its way out of my throat.

Ziva chuckles darkly, jerking me closer by the collar, where I can only stare helplessly into her mysterious, dark gaze. "Like that, do you?" she purrs, the words sounding even more enticing laced in her unusual accent. She heavily runs her other hand down my body, tweaking a nipple sharply, and grins when I whine and arch into her touch. "Your Daddy certain was right about you being an eager little slut."

"Yes, ma'am," I murmur, eyes closing to savor the sensations.

"So tell me, Sara," she continues in that same silky tone. "Pictures of you following Sofia like a shadow or a lovesick puppy, your fingerprints all over her desk and locker, and your lipstick on her collar. What could that possibly mean?"

"I want her," whispers into the room before I even realize the words as more than a thought.

"Want her how? To fuck you? To replace your Daddy?"

"Yes. No!" My eyes snap open with the intensity of my denial. "Nobody can replace my Daddy. Maybe…"

"Maybe?" Ziva prods when I don't continue, and twists my nipple sharply again.

Hesitation freezes my throat for a moment as I enjoy the pleasurable pain arrowing directly into my groin. "Maybe share me?"

With a snort Ziva twists the collar again until it momentarily digs into my throat, my breath catching. It's one of Daddy's favorite tricks and my cunt spasms in reaction. "And if either of them said no?"

"I don't know," I whisper, not really wanting to consider that option, so I move under her touch, pulling back from her proximity.

The hand on my collar shifts and Ziva spins my discarded chair around before dropping into it to face me while I stare at her boots. Confusion rushes through my mind, playing tricks on me. What if they did say no? What if Sofia doesn't want to continue to share me with Daddy? I don't want to have to choose between them. Does that make me selfish?

A gentle touch coaxes my chin up, and I have a terrible time meeting those dark, knowing eyes. But Ziva forces me to do just that, gripping my chin tightly when I try to drop my gaze. "Sara?" Her voice is softer, more her normal tone, not the Top role she's been playing with me.

A deep, calming breath helps to steady me. This isn't worth a safe word, damn it! I meet her gaze long enough to convey that, hopefully, and lean into her touch again. "If Daddy or Sofia said no, I'd obey their wishes," I finally say honestly, hoping the two women in question actually hear and, more importantly, understand. "Daddy has invested so much in my training," my voice trails off, the lump in my throat choking, before I shyly add, "and in me." As much as I'm attracted to Sofia and want so much with and from her, the idea of losing Dace terrifies me beyond words. But Daddy has gone to a lot of trouble to do this for me, and I feel her love as clearly as a sweet caress, calm washing over me. Centered once more, I lean up toward Ziva coquettishly. "And now she's sent you to pursue me." Without thought, I bend forward to gently brush my crown of my head against her chin, arching into her like a shy kitten. When Ziva doesn't react negatively, I shift and drop sweet little kisses along her jaw, never daring to press a kiss to her lips without permission. "How could I possibly say no?"

The exact sequence of events in the next few seconds will remain a blur until my dying day. Once moment I am nuzzling shyly at Ziva's throat and jaw line, the next finds me flat on my back on the floor, Ziva straddling me with a pair of cuffs and a clip in either hand. And the devious smile spreading across her face? I am soaking wet in a heartbeat, unable to do more than whimper and make futile attempts at squirming under Ziva's surprisingly solid frame. After a few more seconds of this, my wrists are strapped neatly into the cuffs, which are then clipped to my collar. There is no way I'm going to be moving from this floor without her permission or assistance, but a quick touch reassures me that I can easily reach the clip to free myself if absolutely necessary. It's one of Daddy's favorite innovations for our play sessions.

Ziva's low, sensual chuckle raises the hairs on my neck. "You really are a little slut, aren't you, Sara?"

"Yes, ma'am," I reply proudly, now caught up thoroughly in her charm. "It's one of the things Daddy appreciates about me."

That comment rewards me with a sharp twist of both nipples, and I cry out in aroused shock. "Somehow I do not think your Daddy would appreciate your prideful tone, would she?"

"No, ma'am," is all I can whisper, squirming again. Damn these dominant women in my life who have such sexy voices!

Ziva stares at me, those dark eyes boring into me with a laser's intensity. I am helpless to look away, and feel so very much like Darzee's wife in the wake of Nagaina's deadly flat stare. Damn the kids for making me watch _Riki-Tiki-Tavi_ so recently! Suddenly Ziva smirks and flicks a small knife from… Okay, I have no idea where that knife came from; I only know that it wasn't there one minute, and was suddenly glinting in her grip in the next.

++ Ziva ++

"You have far too many clothes on, Sara," I purr softly, turning the knife slightly to let the light catch and reflect off its white polished surfaces. "And with those cuffs on, you cannot really strip for me, can you?" Sara shakes her head, eyes wide and intent on the deadly-looking ceramic blade in my hand. "I hope you do not have any sentimental attachments to this outfit?"

"No, ma'am." The words are barely breathed, accompanied by a strong shudder that travels the length of her supple body.

"Good. Now do not move."

Not waiting for her response, I deftly slit up the center of her shirt and peel back the layers to reveal the lacy red bra that barely covers her breasts. Both nipples are taut points under the lace from my earlier teasing, and I cannot resist the urge to lean over and suckle first one, then the other. Sara rubs her forearms against my head in encouragement, whining and arching into my mouth.

"Ziva, please…" she begs prettily and I feel my jeans soaking up my own arousal. I cannot help but wonder if Natalia has even the barest idea of how I feel right now.

"Shh, Sara," I murmur soothingly and trail the flat of the blade along the scalloped edge of her bra. "Relax, and do not move a muscle."

Instantly there is no movement, except for the faint thrum of her heightened heartbeat beneath skin and bone. Ever so carefully, I slip the tip of the blade between her skin and the scant material resting against it. It splits easily enough with a minimum of pressure, and I am able to openly ogle her perky breasts. Once again, I trail the flat of the blade along each breast that remind me of my own and down along her sternum. Sara's breath hitches raggedly and the tip of the insanely sharp ceramic blade just nicks her skin.

I tsk at her remorsefully, not actually worried about the tiny slit made in her skin. "You moved, Sara. I told you not to."

A sharp whine of sudden surprise reaches my ears just seconds before Sara's groan when I press the flat of the blade to the tiny wound, and raise it to my mouth, delicately flicking the tip of my tongue out to lap at the tiny red splash of color on the otherwise pristine white. There is a minute pinch of pain and I frown slightly, the metallic taste of my own blood mingling with hers from the knife. The rich, dark eyes of my willing captive widen at the sight and I smirk deviously. With a quick flick of my wrist, the knife lands quivering, tip buried in the mat next to Sara's head.

Sara's conflict is amusing to watch, her eyes torn between watching me and that deadly shark tooth-like blade so close to her head. Enjoying this enormously, I let my eyes trail heavily down the length of her torso, returning repeatedly to the small drop of blood welling on her sternum. Certainly the wound is little more than a paper cut, the blade is so finely sharp, but I can see by Sara's expression that the pain is an unexpected thrill.

"Oh god," she moans wantonly, arching up as I lean over to gently run the flat of my tongue across the droplet of blood. Nipping lightly against the wound, I am nearly unseated from Sara's hips shooting up against me so roughly. This will not do at all.

"What is the matter, _chatatula [kitten]_?" I purr, fingers unerringly teasing her nipples, even as my own ache with need. "Little Kitten, do you need something?"

"Fuck," she whimpers, and I chuckle with dark delight.

"I think I can arrange that, but first you need to answer my question." This is not the answer Sara wants, illustrated by her petulant whine, but she nods nonetheless. "Good girl. Now tell me the truth, Sara. Who do you wish to walk through that door right now to fuck you?"

Sara stares up at me, incoherent with her need, and I can practically smell the smoke rising from her ears as her brain races wildly. "I don't care. Daddy or Sofia… Or both at once."

"Greedy slut," I admonish, leaning in to catch her nipple between my teeth, applying just enough pressure to suck the breath from her lungs. "That was no kind of answer." Feeling reckless, and adoring the silent begging, I offer the same treatment to her other nipple before scooting down a bit to straddle her thighs and knees, pressing a hand between her legs. "Oh my goodness," I purr, rubbing roughly at the hot, damp denim. "Someone seems to be having a bit of a problem. Whatever shall we do about that?"

"Please, Ziva," she whimpers. "Fuck me."

"Oh no," I reply, moving up on all fours to stare down at her. "It is not going to be that easy, Sara." I press a demanding kiss to her lips, knowing she can taste the blood on my tongue. It is a vacuum of sensation, the taste of her, the rough wind of our mingled breathing. Unaware of the passage of time, I finally tear myself away from her intoxicating kiss, sitting back on my heels with a dark smile at the sight of her swollen lips. Without giving her a chance to truly recover, my mouth begins to leave a rough trail down her body: dark hickeys, bite marks, the red lines of my nails scraping down her sides. Reaching her jeans, I glance up at her from beneath my lashes. Sweet god, she is a delectable tableau of barely controlled desire, those dark eyes so like my own burning hotly. I roughly bite the skin just above her waistband and lean down to inhale deeply at the apex of her thighs. "You smell good enough to eat, Sara. Tell me, are you kosher?" I ask with an evil grin.

++ Dace ++

Watching Ziva topple my sweet Sara to the floor is poetry in motion, and I'm getting so damned horny just watching her work over my Sunshine.

"There you are!" Abby's exuberant voice jars along my nerves after the relative silence of only our ragged breathing and the tinny conversation coming through the speakers from the other side of the glass.

"Shh!" we both scold as I snake out a long arm to roughly haul her into my other side, the scent of recent arousal and soap clinging to her skin.

"Catherine told me to come over here after I finished running my tests, but I had to check on my girls and take a shower first. Oh, and just so you know, she's taking good care of Nat and Calleigh," Abby whispers good-naturedly, her usual happy self. "So what'd I miss? What's go--" Her voice trails off into a breathy "oh" as Sofia grabs her chin to point her eyes to the scene before us. A pink tongue flickers over the immaculate dark lipstick and I chuckle before returning my attention to watch Ziva cuff and clip Sara to her collar. Shifting slightly to accommodate both women, I loosen my grip around Abby's neck and let my hand dangle just inside her shirt, fingers absently stroking against her sternum. "Are they really doing it?" she breathes.

"Mm-hmm," I mutter as Sofia distractedly rubs her cheek against the side of my breast. "It's going mostly according to plan. Good to hear that Cath's keeping your girls comp-- What the fuck is she doing?"

The oddly white flash of knife nearly has me through the glass to beat Ziva senseless. It's only the quick intervention of the women to either side of me that keeps me where I am, particularly Abby's throaty chuckle and comment on still wondering where that knife was hidden. Okay, that and the unexpectedly wanton reaction from Sara. I have to admit, it's sexy as hell to see that t-shirt being slit from her skin, same thing for the bra. It's not like I don't make sure my Sara is well-stocked in the fetish wear I like her in.

When the blade nicks her pale skin, I stiffen slightly, and once again, it's Abby's reaction that grounds me, as I can feel Sofia's muscles bunch up as she must be considering going after Ziva, too. "Oh my god," Abby squeals softly, grabbing my scarred wrist almost painfully. "I had no idea Ziva was a closet vamp, but it totally makes sense." She shudders as I lean in to rasp a nail up along her sternum, along the same spot where Ziva's marked Sara. "Oh fuck me," she mutters matter-of-factly. "I think I just came. I so need to change my panties."

Snorting at that, I glance down at the odd sensation against my left breast to find Sofia caught somewhere between a giggle and a gasp. Shifting my hand, I slip into her shirt to repeat the sternum scrape on her, as well, and chuckle darkly when she nearly jumps clean out of her skin. "Problems, Sofie?"

"Fuck you, Candy," she mutters, squawking when I lightly tighten my grip around her neck.

"All in good time," I reply placidly, and we all moan as Ziva plunders Sara's mouth ruthlessly. Listening to all of the delightfully needy moans and whimpers, I'm feeling growly with need, and it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that I can smell the same arousal on both of my bookends. Nor does it shock me when Sofia turns slightly and nips at the side of my breast. She knows as well as I do just what Sara is like in this state, and I can tell she wants to go in there and ravish our sweet little sub senseless. But that is for later, after Sunshine has performed so nicely for Ziva.

"Dace?" comes the plaintive moan from my blonde partner as Ziva leaves her marks down Sara's body.

"Need something?" I ask lightly, my tone belying my own arousal, and I scrape my finger between her breasts again. At her jerky nod, I shift again, letting go of Abby to pull Sofia in front of me. When I'm satisfied we're both still able to see the show in front of us, I unbutton her fly and slip my left hand into the warm, damp material. "Mmm, no panties, Fetch?" I purr, fingertips kneading at her pubic hair, just missing her clit. "Hoping you were going to get lucky?"

She squirms, trying to get my hand to move lower without actually touching me. Her switch tendencies have been a lovely surprise. "Fucking tease," she growls, the sound morphing into a needy keen as I brush a fingertip across her clit. She leans back to grind her ass against me, eyes once again drawn to Ziva teasing Sara because of the lovely sounds filtering in from the other room. When Ziva bites one of Sara's nipples, I let my right hand glide up under Sofia's shirt to cup her breast. Two of my fingers slide down to either side of her clit, massaging lightly.

As Ziva leans in to sniff at Sara's crotch, Sofia moans and licks her lips. "Bet her jeans are soaked," I murmur in Sofia's ear. "You know how she gets off on this kind of thing."

++ Sofia ++

"I don't care if she's kosher or not," I mutter in response to Ziva's question. "She tastes fucking fantastic."

"Do tell," Abby drawls suggestively, curiously, and startles me out of my lusty stupor. Well, a little anyway. No one can ignore the talented hand that's currently down my pants. Stronger than I have tried and failed.

"Oh yeah," I reminisce, glancing Abby's way for only a moment. "Sun-warmed sarsaparilla with the faintest hint of salted honey and cinnamon." I grin as she mouths 'salted honey' and cast my eyes up to my tall friend, patting her cheek. "You'll just have to trust me on this one… unless her Daddy here decides to let you have a taste yourself."

"And Daddy is gonna spank you for being a tease," Dace growls softly near my ear, chewing at the tendon between neck and shoulder. Thankfully, through my shirt to minimize the marking. I already take enough shit from the other detectives about this unusual friend of mine that helps in my real life, too. Sensing my distraction, Dace's fingers increase their speed and pressure against my clit, and she growls in that particular way that is hers and hers alone. "Tho' that poetic description was nicely done, so I might think about reconsidering."

I whine softly, hips alternately arching into her hand and grinding back against the bulge in her jeans. Eyes returning to the other room, I realize that Sara's been stripped of her jeans and panties. Ziva's fingers are teasing her clit, alternately slipping into the heat of her cunt.

"Oh my, _chatatula_ ," Ziva drawls sexily as Sara whines and lifts her ass off the ground to get more contact from her. "So hot, so wet, so needy. Are you always this much of a greedy little slut?"

"Yes, ma'am. Please…"

"Please what, Sara?" Ziva asks and shifts up to suck on Sara's nipples again. More of a bite than a suck, and I actually squeal when Dace grabs my same nipple and gives it a hard tweak, chuckling arrogantly. Even as I mutter dire threats that make Dace laugh, Sara wails and tugs at her handcuffs.

"Fuck me, please!"

"Oh no, _chatatula_ , I don't think so. Not yet." Standing, Ziva glowers Toppily at the deer-in-the-headlights Sara still sprawled on the floor. "Get on your hands and knees." Scrambling, Sara does her best, her movements jerky and uncoordinated with lust and her bound hands. "Hurry up!"

Dace breathes a growl across my neck, making the fine hairs stand up and my nerves burn like ice. So damned scary, and so damned hot…

A squawk of surprised from Ziva makes me grin, as Sara's face is suddenly buried in her crotch. It's reassuring see the strong façade crack as the former Mossad agent briefly closes her eyes, expression gone stark and hungry, grabbing Sara's hair with rough fingers. I know Sara's in trouble now, even as I grab at Dace's hips for support from my own knees growing shaky. Sure enough, Ziva angrily wrenches Sara's head back, putting the taller brunette back on her knees with a hiss of combined pain and pleasure. It takes a while to get Sara to a place where pain releases her from the tight bonds she keeps on herself,, but her expression says it all. "Did you ask for that?" Ziva snarls, expression fierce, face close to Sara's, all fire and intimidation. They're good together.

"No, ma'am." The words are having trouble getting through to my brain, both from Sara's low tone and my overpowering arousal turning my spine to hot lightning. "Let -- let me make it up to you?"

"Ziva won't know what hit her," Dace chuckles, shifting to plunge a couple fingers into my clenching cunt. 'Bout damned time! "Come on, Sofie, let go."

That's all the invitation I need and grunt softly, bucking into her hand until orgasm breaks over me in a blinding wave. The glass of the two-way mirror is cool against my forehead and hand, my panting painting swaths of short-lived hazes of steam. With effort, I focus on the action in the other room again, trying to ignore Dace's quiescent hand, curled protectively around my crotch. Ziva is sprawled back in the wooden chair, pants strewn on the table, and has one hand tangled in Sara's hair. Her head is thrown back and she groans as Sara's head bobs expertly between her legs.

"Come on, Ziva," Abby mutters from my right, startling me into remembering she's even here. A quick glance shows her hand moving furiously under her short skirt, her carefully made-up face scrunched up in lusty concentration. "Quit fucking around! I want you to come first."

Smirking, I curl my hand around Dace's, only the fabric of my pants separating our skins. While she might seem to be relaxed, I can feel the slight tension and tremors in her hand, echoing up her arm, through the slender body pressed into mine. "Put your hands on my shoulders," I instruct quietly, biting back a hiss of overstimulation as her hand retreats from the warmth of my pants and the sexual tingle in the wake of her touch. Wriggling my hands behind me, between our bodies, I find the button fly and tug it open. Growling and tightening up her grip, Dace breathes hotly against my neck and I just chuckle. "Easy, Dace," I breathe, knowing that she can hear me clearly. "You just watch the show and let me take care of you. Just gonna take the edge off until you can get her to do it properly." The familiar strap-on is firm and soft against my fingers -- it always weirds me out just how realistic that thing feels -- and I toy with the length of it. As the gelatinous layer around the hard core ripples against Dace's clit, she begins to breathe harder, body shivering.

Both of us freeze for a moment, startled as Ziva makes a terrific noise, almost like she's in pain, pulling hard enough at Sara's hair to get her to cry out for mercy.

"Nice," Dace growls in a deceptively matter-of-fact tone, and I take up stroking the toy once again. After so long, I know Dace's libido well enough to be able to coax a pretty strong orgasm out of her, solely by the tone of her growling. Wiggling my ass into her crotch and jerking the phallus with a bit more force, I hear that terrifying tone rumble through Dace's voice. It's like something out of a horror movie as the monster tears the life from its victim. Time has taught me to appreciate that sound, the primitive release in my animal-like friend and lover.

Drawing out Dace's release with my fingers, I continue to grind against her and tease her clit as Ziva wails in what I'm guessing is Hebrew, followed closely by Abby's orgasmic squeals.

As they catch their breath, we watch Sara nuzzle Ziva into a second orgasm, all the while squirming wantonly. I know that sweet little wiggle of Sara's quite well, have brought it on several times while playing. I think it's time to get more involved.

++ Abby ++

A second serrated flutter of ecstasy makes me clench my teeth as Ziva rants in her native tongue. It took a damned long time for me to admit how she revs my motor, and we won't even get into the stuff with Tony, but I am deeply in that sexy Ziva carnal groove now. Seeing her all flushed and relaxed, winding down from the throes of orgasm, hearing her sexy voice in that fluid language…

I am a mess. A complete fucking mess. I just wish Nat and Calleigh were here to see how fucking sexy this is… Then again, they're probably just as much of a mess as I am, considering how I'd left them in the first place. That thought brings a faint smile to my lips, but I'm too worn out at the moment to let it get any bigger than that.

The Blonde Squad comes to my rescue, ducking under my arms to bodily haul my shaking self out one door and into the next. Oh, the way that room smells… Heavenly! Sara shrinks to the floor like a puppy expecting to get berated, or worse, while Ziva struggles to sit up. One wears a startled, hungry look that is aimed at my human crutches. The other wears an equally hungry look, combined with concern, aimed directly at… me. Oh my.

"Abby?" Her voice is even huskier than I'd expected, cracking alarmingly, and it makes me smile at the unexpected charm of it. "Are you all right? What did you two do to her?"

Glancing at Dace when she shifts slightly, I catch her rolling her eyes. "Helped her in here," she deadpans and gives me a swift smack in the ass that makes me squeak and flush.

Ziva slides from the table and shakes herself out, striding over with intent, not the least self-conscious about the fact that she's half-naked. It's not like I haven't seen this much and more before! But this woman really does wreak some serious havoc with my sensibilities. All arrogance and pride and danger. Be still my heart!

There's a moment of hesitation just out of reach, where those boiling dark eyes flicker from one blonde to the other. One elegant hand stretches out toward me, as if to make sure I'm all right. With some silent signal, Dace and Sofia slip away, draping my captured arms over the shoulders of this exotic woman who's made me so damned hot. When Ziva doesn't cringe away or threaten to shoot me, I lean back against the door in deference to my still-shaking knees and drop my arms to her waist to pull her close.

"Abby?" she asks curiously, her husky tone making me quiver.

"Do you have any idea how fucking hot that was?" The words escape me in typical blunt fashion, and the dark browns arch up. Ah well, there's no point in playing coy about this anymore. "It made me want to do this from the second I walked in the room and saw you." And with that scant warning, I lean in closer, willing her to meet me halfway again. It doesn't quite work out that way, as she remains unresponsive for a moment, her mouth soft and tempting against mine.

"Natalia?" Her tone is a dichotomy of lazy arousal and worry about her Guide.

"She's with Catherine and Calleigh, and if they're anything like I'd left them, probably still just as turned on as I am, too, I bet." I pause for a moment. "Are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath and leans up to press a kiss to my lips, the longest, most meltingly sexy kiss I have ever had. "I am working on it." Oxygen finally makes its way into my brain, but I can only stare stupidly at her for a long moment. "Abby?"

"I came three times watching you, Z," I whisper, giving in to the temptation to touch her more, hands sliding over the curve of waist and hips. "The domination thing, the attitude, the knife, ohmygod the knife! I had no idea you would sex play with knives and blood. I came when I saw that, Ziva, and nobody touched me, not even me. And you know how much it turns me on when you talk in Hebrew. I never know what the fuck you're saying, but it's so hot!"

"I was speaking in Hebrew?"

Chuckling at her confusion, I lean in again for another kiss, nuzzling closer to her.

A whimpering from behind us finally gets our attention and we turn to watch Sara sucking at Dace's fingers like a starving dog. A grin splits my face, remembering where those fingers have been, and Dace leans over to sharply slap Sara's ass, making her squirm and whine even more. "Are you being an impatient slut? Maybe I should just send you home without any relief, hmm?" Sara's eyes get big and she stills immediately, ducking her head as though expecting a blow. My throaty chuckle brings Dace's gaze to mine. "Sara, go see if Abby has anything that she needs cleaned off."

The brunette immediately crawls over to sit back on her heels and look at me expectantly. Shrugging with the pleasurable unexpectedness of this whole surreal scene, I offer her my right hand and watch Ziva's face as Sara sucks and licks my fingers clean of my own lubrication from earlier. She strokes Sara's hair fondly and I find myself a little jealous that she's getting that treatment instead of me.

Yeah, I so need to have Ziva wear me out until I can barely breathe, let alone feel horny anymore. But, we'll need to make sure Nat feels okay about everything again, too. She really doesn't like this stuff, which is totally understandable because of her ex-bastard.

"Come here, Sara," Dace calls out softly, derailing my thoughts, and Sara instantly lets go of my fingers with a smile before crawling back over by her two blonde lovers. "Do you want it?" Sara nods eagerly. "Do you deserve it?" Ah, looks like that's a trick question, as Sara hesitates, hunching down even further into her subservient pose at Dace's feet.

"Only… Only if you think I do, Daddy," she whispers, voice tense with need.

Wow! I would so let Ziva dominate me in a heartbeat, but I don't think that I could live like that, like Sara tends to with Dace. It's just a little too… not me. Not us. Plus? I'm really not sure Nat would be very comfortable with that.

Looking fiercely over the cowering woman, Dace's voice drops into a low, dangerous range that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and everyone in the room goes very, very still. "I think," she begins slowly. "I think that I will make you wait; make you marinate; make you think about these sexy women; make you think about how you ache like a junkie, that hole between your legs like a furnace, a bottomless pit; make you think about how you need it, need it like air, like water, like food."

Okay, seriously? It's not just Sara that's dripping right now. Even Sofia's startled, hungry expression echoes Ziva's and, I'm quite sure, my own. Sara keens softly, creeping forward, chin on the mat, ass waggling in the empty air, kissing Dace's boots, stroking the leather with shaking fingers.

With false nonchalance -- you don't need to have enhanced Sentinel senses to know how riled up she is -- Dace looks back at Sofia. "Dunno, Sofie. Should I?" Clearly startled from her carnal haze, Sofia actually jumps in surprise, blinking idiotically for a minute. Chuckling in delight, Dace picks up the foot that Sara has been worshipping to set it heavily on the bowed neck, pinning her to the floor. "That was a damned nice scene, Ziva. Would you two like to stay and reward Sara for a job well done?" The boot presses down, making Sara squeak and moan. "In my own good, god damned time!"

The broad grin that splits my face hurts, but is not at all feigned. "Hell yeah! Just tell me what to do!"

"Wait!"

All of us freeze at Ziva's sharp tone, even Dace. Is she having second thoughts about all of this? Blazing brown eyes pin me, and I go weak in the knees. Seriously, every single muscle in my body has just gone semi-liquid. Damn, but I am hopefully in the best kind of trouble. "As much as we would like to continue this, Abby and I are needed elsewhere. My _neshama sheli_ will no doubt be beside herself, even with Calleigh and Catherine's company, particularly since this is so wholly foreign to her." Damn! Once again, I've almost forgotten about Natalia. Bad Abby, no nookie for you! "Perhaps a thunder check?"

"Rain check, Z," I reply automatically. "Rain check."

"Yes, rain check," she repeats, smiling self-consciously as she strokes my cheek. With a deep breath, she steps closer to Dace and the submissive Sara. Some silent conversation happens between them and Dace steps back, releasing Sara from her bondage. Ziva kneels down and tips up Sara's face. " _Toda raba_ , Sara, thank you," she says softly, stroking her fingers down Sara's cheek. "I enjoyed myself, and I hope you did, as well. I need to make sure that Natalia is all right, but we will talk more about this tomorrow, yes?" When Sara nods and smiles, blinking back the bright sheen of tears, Ziva leans in to brush a gentle kiss across her lips. "You were a very good girl, _chatatula_ , and I am honored to have played this scene with you. Listen to your Daddy and Sofia so you can get your reward."

"Thank you, Ziva," she whispers back and impulsively wraps Ziva in a brief hug.

Standing and making her way back to me, Ziva watches as Sara returns to her subservient position at Dace's feet. After a moment, she takes my hand and tugs me out of the room, quietly tugging the door closed behind us.

"Let us go find Natalia and Calleigh, Abby," she says softly. "Make sure they are all right. And once I know that Natalia is fine, I believe I owe you your own swift spanking for being so cheeky."

Grinning happily, I follow her out of the building.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings :: Major character death

++ Calleigh Duquesne ++

(09-18-06)

"I need you."

Three words I never would have expected to hear out of his mouth; particularly not in that desperate tone. It's not until he repeats my name that I can even begin to compute that those words, in that tone, are coming from the one man I trust more than anything in the world.

"Whatever it is, you know you can count on me, Horatio." The words are released fully realized, from my mouth as they form in my thoughts, as when Athena sprang wholly formed from Zeus' head.

He begins to explain what's going on, the words clipped and as emotionless as he can muster, given the circumstances. The fact that he's failing miserably in the neutrality department doesn't escape either of us, but neither will we bring it out in the light of day where it will need to be dealt with. The agonizing tale that predicated the beginning of his new life with Marisol, culminating in the shooting that seriously wounded Marisol and killed Eric, is almost more than I can bear, and I wasn't in the middle of it all. But I should have been there. I should have been present at his wedding, should have been toasting him and Marisol on a long and happy life together. I should have been able to stop Eric from dying in his beloved sister's arms before she succumbed to her own injuries. None of them deserved this.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, and I will completely understand if you say n--"

"When are you leaving?"

"Calleigh, I'm not--"

"You're obviously taking bereavement leave, right? If nothing else, you need time to deal with Marisol's injuries and recovery, or am I wrong about that?" My question is neatly inserted over his protestations; my own feelings are currently in limbo as I try to deal with the specific situation on which he's requested my assistance. As if I don't know exactly what he's planning to do from the moment he mentioned the Mala Noches. I've worked with him for over nine years now; I'd like to think I know how his mind works, particularly where family is concerned. And Marisol and Eric certainly qualify as family. "Give me twenty-four hours, Horatio. Can you wait that long? I need to get things settled here and I'll be on a plane tomorrow, even if I have to ask Lady Heartsblood to borrow her private jet. Between me and Monica, we'll knuckle Rick un -- get Rick and the Sherriff to play along with taking me back on a temporary basis while you're grieving Eric's death and dealing with Marisol's injuries."

The relief and amusement are clear in his wry chuckle. "I think I can handle a slight delay while you sort things out. If I can be here when Marisol wakes up, explain what's going on..." There's a definite hitch in his voice now, and I have to force my own tears away for the moment. "Call me the minute you have an ETA, okay?"

"Absolutely. I'll be there, come hell or high water."

We exchange a few more pleasantries, and I promise to give Nat a hug for him. But neither of us is really interested in conversation right now. Plans need to be put into motion so this can all be taken care of as quickly as possible.

My only question now is how the hell I'm going to tell the rest of my pack that I'm leaving them.

+++++

"No."

"Nat, listen--"

"No, Calleigh, you listen to me. You're not going, not alone. You are part of this pack and I'm not going to let you go without me, without us."

Taking a deep, calming breath, I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her adamant stubbornness. Instead, my eyes move to study the other half of our quartet: Abby is sitting on the couch, Bert wrapped in her arms, wearing a pensive look; Ziva, on the other hand, is studying Natalia's face, fingers curling and flexing at her sides as if she's fighting the urge to do -- I don't know what it is she's resisting the urge to do.

"It's just for a couple of weeks, Natalia. Horatio needs time to grieve away from the lab, time to help in his new wife's recovery. Surely you can't deny them that?"

"Of course not! I'm not heartless."

Ziva's hands clench into tight fists at that, and a small sound escapes her lips. Only then do her actions make sense to me. While this does involve all four of us, this is a discussion primarily between me and Nat. Flashing her a grateful smile, I try again.

"I know you're not, but right now he's running on adrenalin-fueled autopilot. I've run the lab several times in the past for Horatio. I don't even know if Rick or the Sherriff is going to let me do it. I don't technically work for the MDPD anymore, and neither do you. Monica's working on laying the foundation of this deal with the Sheriff. But I've got a lot more sway where he's concerned. Technically, I don't even need to put this past Rick Stetler, but I'm doing it as a courtesy to the team and the lab. Besides, I have some leverage that I can use if needed."

All of Natalia's bravado and bluster deflate like a punctured tire. A part of me aches to see the flash of defeat in her eyes, but this is necessary. She sinks to the couch next to Abby, who automatically offers up Bert before engulfing her in a bear hug.

"It's okay, Nat," she whispers. "Me and Z will still be here for you."

"Stop it!" The words are sharper than I'd like, but hopefully effective. The sensation of Ziva moving to rest a hand on the small of my back is, at the same time, unwanted and gratefully accepted. "I am not leaving for good, damn it! I'm going back to Miami for two weeks to help run the lab while Horatio and Marisol begin to deal with Eric's death. Once that's done, I'll be back here. I'll even call every single day, if you want me to." I can't believe I'm practically begging to do this. "This is important to me, Natalia."

Natalia's eyes close for a moment or two, a myriad of emotions playing across her face as she contemplates what I've said. It's not that I don't want her to come with me, or that I don't think she should be allowed to grieve for Eric's death. Far from it. Someone needs to take charge of the lab while everyone is reeling from this shocking situation, and I can't help but feel that it needs to be me. I owe Horatio and Eric both for so many things over the years. They're the brothers I never had, and I would have to be an unfeeling jackass to leave them hanging in the wind when they most need me to be there for them.

"Tali, please."

I feel twitchy and need to be doing something, but don't stray from my spot. The gentle flexing of Ziva's warm fingers against my back has an almost hypnotic sensation, and I can't stop my body from leaning back against her. The soft sound of Ziva's uniquely feline purr goes to great lengths to settle me. Who am I kidding? That purr is soothing to all of us, helping to reduce the tension in ways that I never would have expected six short months ago. I should know better than to second guess the effects of that Sentinel ability of hers.

" _Neshama sheli (My soul)_ ," she murmurs softly, eyes intently trained on her Guide, "you will not be abandoned. And Calleigh will not stay away permanently. Would you not want the same sort of loyalty and devotion if--"

"Don't say it," Natalia grinds out, fear coloring her dark eyes. "I don't want to think about that happening. Ever."

And we've hit a nerve that I hadn't really considered before. Squeezing Ziva's free hand in thanks, I quickly move to sit next to my friend and lover. Taking one hand in mine, I stroke her cheek with the other. "Tali, I'm going to come back. I promise you that I'll be back. There's just… There's something that needs to happen, and I need to be in Miami for it to happen."

A shift of movement in the corner of my eye alerts me to Ziva coming closer. "There is vengeance planned, yes?"

Flashing her a knowing look, I shrug my shoulders. "Given that it was a Mala Noche hit, I'm not surprised that Horatio's noticeably upset and considering it. I'd certainly want revenge on those bastards. I just know how Horatio is, and he needs time to mourn this loss that he and Marisol have now shared. I've met Marisol before -- I've known her nearly as long as her brother -- and I know how much Eric doted on and looked up to her. The relationship with Horatio is new, but not really surprising to me."

"You will be careful?" There's a note of deeper concern in Ziva's voice.

Smiling tightly, I nod. "I won't be with him, not that he'd ever ask that of me in the first place. I'll be working my cases, just like I always did, back at the lab and in the field. And I'll be spending time with Marisol in the hospital while Horatio's g -- otherwise occupied. The Mala Noches don't have a grudge against me. That was something directly aimed at Horatio, and Eric by default."

"I just… We've been in each other's back pockets for five months solid now," Natalia finally says in a low, tentative voice. "I don't want to lose you, Calleigh. I need you."

"It's just two weeks to help Horatio and Marisol, to honor Eric's memory," I repeat solemnly, taking her into my arms, and press a gentle kiss to her lips. "I don't want to leave you, any of you, but you know Horatio. He doesn't ask for help often, and he specifically asked me. I can't deny him that request, not after everything he's done for me, for both of us."

++ Rick Stetler ++

The silence of my office is shattered by the annoying buzz that signals an incoming call from an unknown number. Thumb hovering over the ignore button, I just want this day to be over. There's something going on with Caine and his team of misfit toys, but I can't quite figure it out yet. Imagine my surprise when my thumb shifts to answer the call.

"Stetler."

"How badly do you want to owe me, Rick?"

Staring at the phone for a moment, there is an uneasiness at my inability to marry the voice I'm hearing with the phone number on the display. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Rick," comes that far too familiar, and grating, Southern twang that I haven't heard in many months now. "How badly do you want to owe me?"

"I don't have time for this, Duquesne." The words push out past my clenched teeth. "We can't all go traipsing off into the desert whenever we want. Some of us still work for a living."

The sharp inhalation of breath on the other end of the line brings a smile to my lips. It's nice to knock her uppity, fake Southern belle routine off that pedestal that day shift has her living on. The silence drags on for a few more seconds.

"Look, Calleigh--"

"I'm betting you haven't heard the news yet, have you, Rick?" she asks, cutting in smoothly. "Any minute now the Sherriff will have one of his underlings drop off the message to you. It's all just a courtesy, really, but I'm thrilled to be able to tell you first."

"Tell me what?"

"I'm coming back to run the lab for the day shift."

"This isn't funny, Calleigh."

"You know you need me, Rick," she continues in that sickly sweet tone. "With Horatio out on bereavement leave, and Eric… gone, all you've got left is Ryan Wolfe. I know that there can be personnel shuffling done to get more CSIs on the shift to replace Eric and cover for Horatio while he's gone, but Ryan certainly isn't managerial material, right? And I didn't think you'd be willing to give up IAB, even for two weeks, to run the team. Or am I wrong in thinking that?"

Before I can answer, a knock at the door startles me, and I wave the young man into the office. Scanning the letter he hands me, I barely register that he leaves. The paper slips from my suddenly numb fingers. Dear God, this can't be happening. How is this even possible? But there is the Sherriff's signature at the bottom of the paper, approving Calleigh Duquesne's temporary reinstatement as head of the CSI lab, day shift, as well as the change in personnel to cover Caine's absence and Delko's death.

"Anyway, I have to go and get myself packed, but I just wanted to let you know that I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Rick. Have a good day."

With that, the call ends, leaving me staring at the phone in horror.

This can't be happening…

++ Ziva ++

Tensions are running high in our temporary home, and I am at a loss as to what I can do to repair the situation. Calleigh has been packing and unpacking her bag repeatedly for the last hour and a half. Abby and Natalia have just left to spend some time with the little Sentinel twins, in a blatant attempt to distance themselves from Calleigh's departure in the morning. This is not going as smoothly as anyone would have hoped. But even now, only these few months into our integrated pack dynamics, I know that we will all survive this short-term separation and become stronger and more closely intertwined because of it.

"Calleigh, I am quite sure that you have all the necessary clothing and toiletries for your trip back to Miami." I try to keep my tone soft but, when she jumps in surprise, the scent of her panic is palpable. "I apologize, _chaverah (my friend)_ , I thought you heard me."

She shakes her head, attempting to rake a hand through her hair, only to have it get tangled in the braids dangling on either side of her head. Without conscious thought, I take the few steps to stand at her side, arms wrapping around her body in an attempt to calm her down. She struggles initially, of course, but eventually my softly murmured words break through the haze of her tension, and she slumps into my embrace for a long moment.

"I'm insane to be doing this," she finally murmurs. "Nat's ready to disown me--"

"That is a lie, and you know it, Calleigh."

She sighs and slumps onto the bed with a shrug. I take the opportunity to close up her suitcase and set it near the door before joining her on the bed. This time, she readily leans into my touch; I am still struck by the levels of trust she and Natalia have shown me in such a short amount of time.

"It is only for a couple of weeks, and then you will come back to Las Vegas, yes?" Her nod is all the confirmation I need. "Abby and I will be here to keep Natalia company while you are gone and, as you said, you will be calling daily. You have nothing to feel guilt over."

"I know." Her words are barely whispered. Were I not a Sentinel, with these enhanced senses, I doubt very much that I would have heard her reply.

"And yet, you still feel guilt. Why is that?"

The slightest hint of tension stiffens her body under my touch; her breath quickens, catching in her throat. When she moves to stand, I offer no hesitation in letting her do so.

"I don't…" She begins pacing, her feet mapping out the floor beneath her in precisely placed steps. Head down, the sensation that her eyes see something other than her feet and the floor is heavily implied. I want nothing more than to go to that same place she has wandered into. "Natalia has become so important to me over the last several months. I know she is more important, more vital, to you--"

"And there you go again! Stop this self-castigation. Yes, Natalia and I share a bond that is primal, almost beyond proper explanation, but that does not negate the relationship you and she share. You are not going to be discarded, Calleigh Duquesne, not unless that is what you choose to have happen. Natalia needs your strength, your stability in her life, just as I need the relationship that has developed with Abby over the past year. My relationship with you is no less important, and not solely because you are so close to Natalia, nor should her relationship with Abby be based solely on my closeness to Abby. Familiarity and intrinsic trust among the four of us will only strengthen the pack as a whole, which will make the bond Natalia and I share even more profound and successful."

Calleigh sighs heavily, scrubbing her hands across her face. "You're right, Ziva, and I know you're right. But…"

When she does not speak for a couple of moments, I move to begin filling the tub in the bathroom. Cocking my head toward my blonde companion, my hand moves unerringly toward the citrus and lavender scented bath salts. Sweetly scented steam wafts through the air as I turn back to find Calleigh has followed me and is already disrobing, as if she has read my thoughts.

Reaching for her brush, I quickly unravel her braids in order to stroke the nylon bristles through the long waves of her hair. Brush strokes alternate with my fingers carding through her hair until a soft, golden wave frames her face. The eyes that meet mine in the mirror have lost some of their pain and tightness.

"I'm sorry," she finally says. "I'm just worried about… everything going on lately. What if I don't want to leave Miami once I get back?"

"Then we will come to you." My words are very matter-of-fact. The shock in her clouded mossy eyes is worthy of my wry chuckle. "You did not think that we would stay in Las Vegas forever, did you?"

"I suppose I've stopped thinking about it."

She slips into the heated water easily enough, and I do not even try to hide the amused smirk as she lets out a low moan of happiness. Once she is completely settled in the tub, I lean over to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I am eternally grateful to Dace and her extended pack for taking care of you and Natalia until we could meet, but I cannot stay here much longer. Dace and I are too close to each other. And… This is not my home, Calleigh; I have no home except where the three of you are." She starts to say something, perhaps in protest, but another gentle kiss, pressed to her lips this time, easily quiets her. "Relax now. We will discuss this later, once Natalia and Abby have returned from visiting with Rose and the Monkey Twins."

Thankfully, Calleigh does not attempt to continue our conversation. After a moment of watching her, I head out into the kitchen to prepare a light meal for my family. We will need the nourishment to get through this night.

++ Dr. Alexx Woods ++

(09-19-06)

A very familiar and much missed face appears in the crowd of people milling about the crime labs. Dropping all pretenses of why I'm even out of my morgue, I pat Ryan's hand and quickly move to envelop Calleigh in a warm embrace, flashing a bright smile at Horatio for bringing her here first.

"It's so good to see you, Alexx!" she exclaims, returning the hug easily.

"Baby girl, let me get a good look at you," I say, pulling back to study her face. There's definitely a note of sadness there, but her stubborn pride won't let it overwhelm her. I think Mama Alexx is going to need to keep an eye on this one while she's here. There are more shades of blonde to her hair now, even a few streaks that look almost white, especially against the deep, honeyed tones of her skin. I hope I won't need to remind her about the dangers of too much sun, living in the desert as she does now. But she looks healthy and happy, given the circumstances that have brought her back to us. "Somebody's making sure you're eating well, I see."

Her face flushes slightly. "I'll have to tell Kerry you approve of her methods to keep all of us healthy." A flash of the fresh-faced young transfer that I first met so many years ago comes back in the brief, unfettered smile. "She tends to use all of the children as punishment for us. We can't expect them to eat their veggies if we don't."

Chuckling knowingly, I nod in agreement. "That's right." Seeing the Sherriff heading our way from over her shoulder, I pull Calleigh into another quick, tight hug. "You're about to be taken away from me, but you come down and see me when you get a moment, okay? We need to catch up."

"I will, Alexx," she replies, more than a hint of gratitude in her voice, before letting the professional mantle settle over her again. "And we'll have to give Nat a call, so you can say hi."

"I'd like that. Talk to you soon, baby girl."

Watching her turn around and meet the Sherriff with her head held high, I can't help but feel proud of how far she's come over the years. The half-smile playing on Horatio's lips as he turns to join them only proves to me that he feels the same way. It may be temporary, but things feel more settled, more comfortable with Calleigh around. Maybe we'll be lucky enough to get her to bring Natalia for a visit so we can meet these other two women that they've gotten involved with.

But not until this business with the shooting is dealt with. This lab will never be the same again without Eric, but I have faith in our little family. Things will be rocky, but we'll weather the storm, just like we did when Tim died two years ago.

++ Calleigh ++

Stepping into my condo is like slipping into an old, familiar, worn bathrobe. Only it's in a completely different universe. Things are almost right. The cleaning service has done a fabulous job of keeping this place looking like I had it. I really need to remember to thank Alexx for the recommendation when I see her tomorrow. Without thought, I turn on the television, needing the noise to combat the loneliness, as I begin to make dinner. Bless that Alexx for stocking me up on the basics for groceries, too. I'll do a more thorough shopping trip tomorrow.

While the chicken and wild rice dish is in the oven, I settle on the couch and try to pay attention to the special running on Animal Planet, but it only makes me think of my pack. Without hesitation, I dig into my pocket and pull out my phone, pressing the speed dial for the bungalow out of desperate habit. As the phone continues to ring, I mentally adjust for the time zone changes and cringe that I might be waking my girls before work.

"H'lo?" Nat's sleepy voice washes over me, calming my jangling nerves more easily than I would ever have guessed.

"Hey you," I say softly, voice automatically modulating to accommodate my lover. "Sorry I woke you."

"Calleigh?" Her voice is definitely perking up. "What time is it?"

Glancing at the clock, I blink as I realize just how late it is. No wonder I'm exhausted! "Just after nine my time," I reply. "I just got home a little while ago. And before I forget, Alexx and Ryan say hello. In fact, I told Alexx that we'd give you guys a call in the next couple of days, so she can talk to you. She's quite curious about Abby and Ziva."

Natalia's warm, knowing chuckle works wonders on my nerves. "Abby's been quizzing me about everyone today, too. And before I forget, Rose and the Monkey Twins wanted me to tell you to say hi to everyone for them."

"I'll make sure to do that tomorrow."

"And tell them there's a card coming in the mail for the team." She hesitates for a moment, and I can hear a faint murmuring in the background. Nat's muffled reply is lost on me, but I wait for her to continue. "Sorry, Abby woke up and wanted to know why I was talking to the sea monkeys." I chuckle, remembering the enthusiasm she shares with Cubby for _Finding Nemo_ , and smile when she joins me in the laughter. But it dies out quickly. "There's going to be a second card from the girls. Can -- Can you make sure that it gets to Eric's grave?"

Swallowing to get rid of the lump in my throat, I nod before realizing she won't be able to see it. "Of course, I will, Tali."

"So… How's everyone doing? Are there plans for the funeral yet?"

"The lab's pretty subdued. Alexx personally handled the autopsy, just like she did when Speed died. Um, Marisol was awake enough this morning to make some plans with Horatio for Eric. He's being cremated and his ashes are going to be scattered in the canal. She said that it was, um, was always his favorite place to dive growing up." The tears begin to burn behind my eyelids again, memories of Eric bubbling up to the surface. Damn it, this is hard! "So the memorial will be held by the water in a couple of days. Horatio said that Marisol has requested charitable donations in lieu of flowers, but I'll have to get you that information tomorrow. I don't honestly remember what he said right now."

"That's fine. Send me an email when you find out. Oh, and send it to Tessa and Darcy, as well? I think Dace said that she and Anastasia wanted to send something, too."

"Yeah, okay, I can do that. So… I miss you guys. My condo is just too damned quiet and lonely." Natalia's soft sigh arrows straight into my heart and once again I begin to regret my decision to assist Horatio. "But it's only for a couple weeks, right?" I ask, forcing more brightness into my tone than I feel.

"Yeah, exactly," she replies. "If we could, we'd come out for the memorial service, but Ziva and I are caught up in this case with Sofia and Boxer. It's really been interesting watching Ziva work on honing her abilities. She's been practicing with Emily quite a bit. It's incredible."

"I can't wait to see how much better she's gotten when I get back." When Nat yawns, I shake my head for being selfish in keeping her on the phone. "You should get back to bed, Tali. You need your rest. I'll try to call a little earlier tomorrow, okay? And you make sure to give hugs and kisses to all of our girls."

"You got it, Cal. Love you."

"Love you, too, Tali. Sweet dreams."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings :: Mentions of abusive relationships

++ Natalia ++

(09-26-06)

"Calleigh!"

The word is tumbling off my lips before I come fully awake, adrenalin pumping through my veins as the nightmare refuses to loosen its grip on me. The rational part of my sleep-addled brain knows that this is little more than a bad dream; the irrational part hasn't quite caught up with that rational side yet. It takes another moment or two before recognition dawns that both Ziva and Abby are softly talking to me. Tears sting behind my lashes, and I cling to my beloved Sentinel tightly.

"What is it, _neshama sheli_?" she asks softly, hand stroking through my hair. "Talk to me."

Her lips press lightly to my temple, nuzzling me gently. At the same time, Abby molds herself along my back, chin resting on my shoulder. I readily take the comfort, feeling the keen loss of Calleigh's presence. When is this damned favor of hers going to be over with? The thought no more than forms and I feel the regret and guilt at even thinking it. Horatio and Marisol lost Eric; we all lost Eric. Who am I to demand that Calleigh be here with me when others need her, too?

"Natalia?" Ziva's soft voice calls me back from my thoughts.

Shaking my head, I lean in closer, taking solace in her embrace, and reach back to grip Abby's hand tightly. "It was nothing," I finally say. "Just a silly nightmare."

Ziva's nostrils flare as she inhales deeply. "No, it was more than just a silly nightmare, but I will not push you to speak of things you do not wish to. Instead I will simply be here for you, to protect you as I am able from the dark things lurking in your dreams."

There's no mistaking the slight rebuke in her tone, but I'm not ready yet to discuss this further. The fractured images, while still vivid when concentrated on, are only just beginning to fade into the realms of restless sleep. I'm not sure I can properly explain what I saw, what I fear it means. That thought takes precedence again, the fear choking me, and I cling more tightly to Ziva and Abby for a few moments. As time passes, their presences push away the worst of the nightmares. The sudden rumbling in my stomach breaks the silence in the bedroom, reducing me to slightly hysterical giggles.

Brushing the softest of kisses against my lips, Ziva smiles warmly and slips out of bed. My eyes follow the slight sway of her hips as she pulls on her robe and heads out into the hallway. Abby sighs, arms tightening around my waist, and I tilt my head back against her shoulder for a moment. Her lips on my temple bring a sigh to my own, my eyes fluttering shut briefly.

"She's only trying to help, you know."

Nodding slowly, I echo her sigh. "I know. I just…" At a loss for words, I shrug helplessly.

"It's okay. We'll figure it out," she says, determination steeling her voice, and throws back the covers. She shimmies into boxers and a skull tank top, tossing my robe at me. "C'mon, Tali, let's go get some grub before my tummy decides to be louder and less ladylike than yours."

Laughing, I do as she asks and follow her out of the bedroom, trying my best to let the tendrils of my nightmare fade away to the background. But I can't shake the feeling that Calleigh should be here with us and, as long as she isn't, I won't feel safe or whole again. She's become so damned important to me over the last several months. And I don't dare bring up the fact that there's a very real part of me that fears she'll remember her life in Miami before me, and never come back. They wouldn't understand…

++ Calleigh ++

It all happened so damned fast.

Maybe if Alexx hadn't mentioned the triple on the Causeway, maybe if I hadn't taken the back roads to get back to the lab faster, I'd just be stuck sitting in traffic for who knows how long. I'd probably still be on the phone with Ryan, discussing the evidence I collected. Instead, here I am, huddled pathetically at the side of the road, watching the last of the bubbles surface and explode as my Hummer is completely sunk to the bottom of the canal. All of that evidence is now completely ruined. All of that work that I did in the vic's apartment was for nothing. I don't have a chance to get to any of it, even if it wasn't already compromised.

My god, I nearly died out there in the water. I don't understand it. Everything was going fine. Ryan was getting the lab prepped for the evidence. I'm not even sure he'd hung up the phone yet. And then, BAM! A sharp crack, almost like gunfire, and a sudden lurch as the Hummer was no longer in my control. Before I knew it, I'd been run off the road and into the water.

Do you know how quickly a nearly two and a half ton vehicle sinks? I don't, not really. Time played that trick on me where it was immensely short, but every second seemed to last a lifetime or more. The chill as that water began trickling in from every opening in the dashboard that it could find; the groaning of the metal as it fought succumbing to the pressure building up; the realization that none of the electronics were going to work since the engine was completely flooded. All I could do was stare at the evidence being compromised and watch the sunlight fade into the underwater world that would become my grave. It wasn't until that telltale crunch of spiderwebbing glass that I realized just how dire my situation was.

The next several moments are a blur. Obviously, my body went into complete and total autopilot from the second I busted in the window until I surfaced and got to the relative safety of the shore and the road. I have dim recollections of gasping for breath in a pocket of air against the roof of the Hummer, evidence envelopes floating around me in a sodden mess. There's a momentary sense of total paranoia as I fight to determine where the surface is. Once I drag myself out of the water, shivering, I struggle to hold back the hysteria, focusing instead on the cuts and scrapes covering all of my exposed skin.

I don't even have a phone to call anyone, let them know where I am and what has happened. Hopefully Ryan will figure it out and send someone out here for me. Once night falls, I'm really in trouble. The gators will smell the blood. And my gun is wet and useless right now. All I can think of is the fact that I had to come home to nearly die. And I haven't even talked to the rest of my pack today, haven't had the chance to even hint at telling them what they've come to mean to me. We were just too damned busy, and I had to put off that call.

"Calleigh?"

That voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I'm surprised to realize that it takes a moment to focus on his face. What the hell does that mean? I attempt a smile, but know it for the failure it is even without reading it in his eyes.

"Calleigh, I don't want you to move until we check you out," he says, kneeling down next to me. His voice is gentle; it takes a few seconds to recognize it as the one he uses with frightened children… or shock victims. "The paramedics are on their way."

"The evidence is…" I can't finish the sentence as an overwhelming sense of failure washes over me, and I force myself not to cry. What must he think of me? I'm better than this, damn it!

"Right now, sweetheart, that's not important. You are."

"But it's all compromised." It's so hard to talk with this huge lump of fear and failure in my throat.

"Yes. Everything but you, ma'am."

The sirens signaling the paramedics cues him to stand up, effectively cutting off anything I might have said. My eyes are drawn back to the water, silently willing the Hummer to miraculously rise up with the evidence still fully intact. Fat chance of that happening, Calleigh…

I’m not quite sure how, but I manage to block it out when the paramedics check me over. And then, as the rough blanket settles over my shoulders, bringing a welcome heat, the world registers more clearly again. Horatio is standing there, watching me intently. What is he doing here? He's still on leave, helping Marisol with the early stages of her recovery.

"What can you remember?"

"It was a blur. It just came out of nowhere." At the faint twitch of his lips, I let out a shaky laugh. "I'm an unreliable witness."

The sound of footsteps is almost ignored until I hear my name being said. Turning around, I see Eric walking up to me, worry heavily lining his face. Wait, that can't be Eric. He's…

"Calleigh? Are you okay?"

Blinking against the sun, I realize that it's Jesse Cardoza standing there, not Eric, and that sharp stab of loss hits me again. Will this never end? "Yeah, I'm okay." I hope I sound more certain to them than I do to myself. And I'll need to sound even surer of myself when I finally call back to Las Vegas and let my pack know what's happened. That's not going to be an easy conversation, not in the slightest.

++ Ziva ++

"Calleigh, we can be ready and in Miami in less than twelve hours."

"No!" The tone of her voice contradicts her words as they come rushing out in a frightened jumble. "I'm fine. The paramedics said I'm fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises. I just wanted you to know what happened, why I didn't call when I was supposed to. I didn't want Natalia to worry."

She continues to speak, and a part of my brain follows her explanation, but I am more interested in the rise and fall of her voice, her tonality. There is a hint of something almost hysterical to the cadence of her words. I wish for nothing more right now than to be there, to take her in my arms and comfort her as she so desperately needs.

"Calleigh," I finally interrupt. "You say you are fine, but you and I both know you are not. I am sure that Dace and Anastasia can arrange a flight for the three of us to come to you."

She pauses and I can hear her ragged breathing over the phone. After a moment, the faint sob reaches my ears, and I barely contain the urge to call for Abby to go find Dace, get one of the private Hearts' jets ready for us to leave.

"Please, Ziva," she finally says softly. "Physically I'm fine. I'm just… I need to see this case through. I need to keep my promise to Horatio, to Eric's memory."

Exhaling slowly, I nod and glance toward the door. Abby and Natalia will be coming back any time now from their trip to visit Alexis with the children. "I do not like this, Calleigh, but I will abide by your wishes. Just know that the four of us will be having a very serious discussion when you return to us next week."

"Yeah," she says with a defeated sigh, "I can't say that I wasn't expecting that. Um, do you know when Nat and Abs will be back? I should talk to them, but I wanted to explain what happened to you first."

"Calleigh, _chaverah_ , listen to me. I want you to take a deep breath and relax. After Natalia's nightmare this morning, she is not going to take this information very well. She will most assuredly want to come to you." Before I can say anything else, I can hear my girls coming into the house. With just another few seconds, I realize that they've brought Rose and the monkey twins with them. "Calleigh, they have come home and have the children with them. Are you home at this point?"

"Yeah, the paramedics cleared me, but Horatio and Alexx ganged up on me to send me home. Why?"

"I want you to have something to eat. Call for takeout if you need to. And then I want you to take a long soak in a hot bath. Take your phone with you, and we will call you once the children have been returned to their adults. At that point, I will explain what has happened to Natalia and Abby before we call you."

"Okay," she replies meekly, the exhaustion and fear clearly present in her tone now. "Thank you, Ziva."

++ Abby ++

"Wait! She what?" Natalia yells, on her feet immediately. "When? Why are we here? We need to go to her!"

She begins to race toward the bedroom to pack a suitcase, but Ziva stops her with a gentle grip on her forearm. " _Neshama sheli_ , she does not want us there."

"I don't give a damn what she wants. It's not about what she wants." There are tears in her eyes and she's beginning to shake. "Let me go, Ziva. I have to go to her. I have to make sure…"

"We will call her so you can speak with her and assuage your fears, but she has expressly requested that we not go to Miami."

Nat stares at her for a moment, then reaches for her cell phone, immediately dialing with trembling fingertips. There is pain in Ziva's eyes as Nat wrenches her arm away and starts to pace again. I'm only slightly surprised that Ziva's not trying to stop her. And then, Ziva's words really start to sink in.

Calleigh almost died today.

Oh fuck! No! No no no no no! Calleigh almost died today. This can't be happening, can it?

"What in the hell gives you the right to tell us you don't want us there, Calleigh? It's bad enough that I missed Eric's funeral and the chance to help Horatio and Ryan, but this is too fucking much. You're not planning to come back, are you?"

What does she mean? Not coming back? She can't be serious, can she? I don't want to lose my family. I already lost Kate and nearly lost Tony. Now I've nearly lost Calleigh and she might never come back to us anyway? No…

"That is enough." Ziva's voice cuts through Natalia's tirade. She grabs the phone and quickly tells Calleigh that we'll call back later. She turns off the phone, tosses it onto the couch, and then grips Natalia by both forearms, shaking her slightly as she says, "Stop this, Natalia!"

The next thing that happens really just stops all of us in our tracks. The minute Ziva shakes her, Nat goes totally white and freezes up. She whimpers something and Ziva lets go of her as if burned. Nat just shakes for a minute before falling into Ziva's arms. Once they stumble to the couch, I join them only after Ziva calls my name.

"Listen to me, both of you," she says in a low voice. "Yes, Calleigh was very nearly killed today, but she is going to be fine. She has a job to do, and intends to see this through, just as she would expect of any of us, yes?" When we nod slowly, she sighs softly and strokes Nat's cheek. " _Neshama sheli_ , I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you or make you think of that bastard that beat you. But you were getting hysterical and I needed to stop you from saying something further that could not be taken back. Can you understand that?"

"I -- I’m scared, Ziva," she murmurs pitifully. "What if Calleigh really doesn't want to come back to Las Vegas?"

"Then we move to Miami to be with her."

It's only when they both turn to stare at me that I realize I'm the one that said those words.

"I don't--"

"No, Nattie, hear me out," I reply, getting back up to start pacing as I lay out my argument. "If we're in Miami and something like this happens, we can be there for Calleigh, right? In fact, we'd have probably been working with her on the case. And even if not, we'd be there and we'd be able to take her home with us, make sure she's okay."

"But Ziva's training with Dace--"

"Is relatively complete," Ziva cuts in smoothly. "Natalia, I cannot stay here much longer in close proximity to Dace and Alexis. I am feeling the pull to fight for dominance, and this is not even my territory."

"So…"

"So you want to go back to Miami, do you not? You have been anxious ever since Calleigh left, and not just because she is not here. Your family is in Miami, Natalia, which means you want to go back home. I have no family to speak of, other than the three of you and, as I told Calleigh, where you are is my home."

She's totally right. With Gibbs, Tony, and Timmy up in New York playing teachers and watching over Lindsay and Jamie, I don't really have any reason to go back to DC. And I really like Nat and Calleigh, like, a lot. I'm still terrified as hell over Calleigh's accident, but that's normal when you love someone, right?

The next thing I know, Nat's grabbing for her phone again. I'm pretty sure I know who she's calling, but she confirms it with her words.

"Calleigh, please don't hang up," she says, tears filling her eyes again. "I'm sorry. I just -- I got scared and--" She stops and nods, eyes closing for a moment as she listens to Calleigh. I don't know what she's saying, but I can hear her kinda angry voice. "I know. But I think I have a solution for us…"

++ Calleigh ++

(09-28-06)

"Horatio, I don't trust him. I can't guarantee that he hasn't turned bad. I can't prove it yet either way."

He nods slowly, studying the file I've given him. As he flips through the file, I can't stop myself from looking around, searching out the person we're currently discussing. How in the hell did Jake Berkeley end up in Miami after all this time? It's been over ten years since I last saw him back in New Orleans. I mean, I get that he's undercover to get information on the Crypt Kings, but still… They're rough, brutal, and I highly doubt he's completely clean. I really wanted to wipe that smarmy grin off his damned face when he called me a bitch. Then again, I don't think Frank was too happy with him, and he didn't necessarily know who Jake really is.

"Calleigh?"

"Sorry, Horatio," I reply, flushing slightly.

"Is there going to be an issue with Mr. Berkeley?"

Looking up sharply at the blatant unasked question couched within the question he's asked, I don't break his gaze for a long moment.

"I will admit that it's a bit of a shock to see Jake again after all this time," I finally reply.

"There was something more than a work relationship then?"

Flushing again, I sigh. "You know me far too well, Horatio. I don't intend to pick up that relationship again, if that's what you're asking. I have someone in my life, three someones in fact, and I don't want to lose that. I just wasn't expecting to ever have to deal with Jake again. Seeing him again so soon after nearly drowning really threw me for a loop."

"And yet you didn't want Natalia and the others to come out here after the accident, did you? Wouldn't that be a reason to have your pack with you? Particularly now, to help you deal with this ghost from your past?"

"About that…"

"Agent Reyes has already called me. She and I are working to get the four of you brought into the lab here. So here's what I need you to do for me. Gather all of your evidence and your notes; get it all into a tidy little package for me. Then you go back to your condo, pack your suitcase, and go back to Las Vegas."

"But--"

"Bring your family home, Calleigh. The lab and the cases will be waiting for all of you. After all, we never close."


	6. Chapter 6

++ Horatio Caine ++

(10-12-06)

Today is an ordinary day in Miami. Calm and cool and quiet with the bulk of the tourists finally headed home and back to their daily lives, anxiously waiting for the coming holidays when they can return to the sun and sand. The earliest of the snowbirds are settling in their winter nests, already expecting the thunderstorm brewing on the horizon.

It is a Thursday, an ordinary day. And yet, something extraordinary is happening.

Today, my team is coming back together as the family we are meant to be. Today, my lost friends and coworkers and such vital parts of who I am are returning. And with them, new blood to mix into our close-knit family, a chance to replace what was lost barely a month ago.

Right on cue, Natalia melts from the crowd, looking around with urgency. Even as I raise my hand to signal her, the earthy brown eyes find myself and Alexx and she lights up with delight.

If she hadn't instigated the hug, I would have. "It's so good to see you guys," she whispers clinging to both Alexx and I until our skulls clonk lightly together.

"Likewise, Natalia. We've been excited since getting your phone call confirming your return."

With a happy sound, Calleigh adds her slight weight to the group hug, making us all laugh. While the women chatter happily at each other, I notice the sinuous movements of a swarthy woman, average height and slender of stature, graceful as a cat.

And just as deadly.

Her dark eyes watch our group like an alert predator, her body language liquidly tense with focus. This, of course, is Ziva David. She flinches slightly at the fumbling presence of a tall woman, wildly dressed and burdened with bags, but the inky gaze does not waver from mine.

Respectfully, I nod in acknowledgement of her presence, drawing Natalia's eye to follow mine. "That's her," she says quietly and I can see her mouth quirk in an adoring smile for the dark woman.

"She's hot."

++ Calleigh ++ 

While I'm not surprised to see that Horatio and Alexx have come to greet us personally, I'm still thrilled. Nat's peel of delighted laughter makes all of us look over to a bemused Ziva and grinning Abby.

"You sound like Eric," Nat giggles, then sobers briefly before she gestures for the rest of our pack to come over for introductions.

"Outside," I demand imperiously, not allowing anyone to get chatty. Ziva doesn't need any extra stress on her right now. Learning this new city will be stressful enough.

Sharing a glance with Natalia, I see the longing reflecting there, the need for this damp, familiar place. Even the cool and stormy weather feels like home.

"I'll take care of the bags," Abby grins and holds up an imperious hand. She really does Sherpa too much for our group as it is. "No arguments. You three go get some real east coast air in your lungs. I'll join you soon." Kissing my nose, she flounces off into the crowd, leaving me to make a mental note to give her a proper thank you later.

Then we crowd out into the thick air and gratefully breathe in home. Ziva makes me smile, taking one of my hands, anchoring me once more to the soul of the pack, the bond she shares with Nat. As though on cue, lightning flashes in the distance, followed by a growl of thunder.

"Welcome home," Ziva grins ferally, pulling our bodies close to her as we watch the grumbling sky.

++ Alexx ++

Now, I've known Calleigh and Natalia both since they were the new kids. I have a pretty good grasp on who they are, especially Calleigh. After nearly ten years, I should hope so!

But this person that she's become has changed fundamentally and I don't mean the obvious bond with these women. What has changed is her place in the world and the way she interacts with the energies around her. Formidable before, this small woman will definitely be a force of nature now.

Natalia, too, is a different person now, self-assured in a way I have never seen before. Her body language is a graceful dance with the dark stranger wedged in between the bodies of the pair of women I've known for years.

And aren't we all just curious as a pack of cats about Agent David!

She's a looker, that much is obvious, but beneath that is an otherworldliness that goes deeper than her exotic accent. Swarthier than Natalia's Puerto Rican good looks, though not as dark as myself, Ziva's looks could easily be mistaken as South American instead of Israeli.

Dark, alert eyes catch mine, framed by a deceptively sweet baby face. For a moment, Ziva doesn't do more than eye me the way a zoo animal behind bars regards the tourists. Then, a mere moment before that probing gaze would make me uncomfortable, the corner of her mouth quirks into a sly grin.

I do believe that I'm going to like this new woman.

The silent conversation is interrupted by the flurry of energy that is Abigail Sciuto. "Everything's ready to go, guys! Bags'll be dropped off once the hirelings find a van to use. Time to go see that bitchin' crib you've been mooning over, Nattie."

The unexpectedness of her comment makes Horatio swallow a chuckle the same way I must and her green eyes, so similar to Calleigh's, focus on us.

++ Abby ++

For some odd reason, the tall redhead reminds me of Ducky. Oh sure, no one could be the Duckster, but I'll take any hint of familiarity that I can get. All this moving around is nerve-wracking. When Natalia does introductions, I'm thrilled that the ginger man is the infamous H and his gentle companion the revered Alexx.

So I do my best to ramble happily at them while we head for whatever transportation awaits us. Access to a new lab has me giddy and I really want to see this city in the top five before this year is over.

It takes a bit to realize that critiquing the lab might be presumptuous.

"I think," Horatio says gently, "that you'll have a more difficult time working with such a large staff more than improving our success rate. Your reputation precedes you, after all. Both of you. There's a very annoyed and effusive NCIS director whom I've spent several long phone calls with."

Both Ziva and I giggle, imaging said conversations with Director Shepherd. We know she's still upset over her entire A-team bailing on her with little notice, even though she understands why.

The car is a hulking Hummer that makes Ziva mutter almost soundlessly, " _Machismo_."

We all laugh at that.

"You'll appreciate them once you have to drive to some godforsaken corner of the everglades," Horatio chuckles as we all pile in.

"Do you have time for a nickel tour?" I beg him as I loop an arm around Calleigh's shoulders so that she can relax into my larger body as best as seatbelts will allow.

"Until duty calls."

++ Ziva ++

The tour is mercifully brief, landmarks pointed out as we race along city street and freeway to our destination. Amidst the stormy landscape, the familiar Atlantic Ocean is churned up in a white capped frenzy. Uncharacteristically, I make no note of where exactly we are going, trusting my packmates, thoroughly exhausted by their energy.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head on my Guide's shoulder, drinking her sweetness and strength. "You'll like it here," she murmurs gently for my ears alone. "This city is unique because of geography and population. It can be terrifying as a hurricane or balmy as a sunbeam, but it is never boring."

"You have missed it."

"I have," Natalia smiles and kisses me on the nose, between my relaxed eyes. "It will be even better with you here now."

Like a smart mate, I do not argue with her.

I've nearly dozed off, at ease with these strangers my packmates trust so implicitly, when the transmission shifts to park and the engine dies.

"Welcome home," Natalia whispers, leading me into the chilly afternoon with her hand in mine. It is a quiet, suburban street of cute homes, heavily planted with trees that sway in the wind.

"It's as ready for you as it can possibly be," Alexx says and we all relish her smile. "We put it to rights as best we could. Now, go make it a home. We'll see you over the weekend to catch up, okay?"

Abby and I retrieve our carryon bags while the others hug and speak together for long moments. Then Horatio drops a ring of shiny keys into Natalia's hand and we four face the sweet little house.

"It will be strange to live among so many people again, after the quiet of the desert." I muse, feeling the presence of so many strangers keenly against my sensitive perceptions.

"It will," Calleigh agrees. "But that's why we're looking for something larger, more remote."

"Besides," Abby chirps. "Can you see any of Art's dogs trying to live here? There's not enough yard to exercise them in!"

This brings a round of delighted laughter to our small family, but I can see the faint tension lurking in Natalia's eyes. This is more of a bittersweet return than perhaps any of us could have guessed. But that is a challenge that we will face together and conquer.

++ Natalia ++

Almost seven months ago I locked this door for what may have been the final time. As the lock snicks open and the door opens beneath my hand, I'm assaulted by how familiar, and how utterly strange, this place is now.

It's dim inside and I reach out without looking to punch my numbers into the security system and click on the built in lamps, flooding the foyer and living room with light. To my immeasurable relief, the place looks nothing like when I'd left it, all the tarps and protective trappings gone. Aside from being model-house sterile, everything is just as when it was home.

"It's cute," Abby comments matter-of-factly, her voice loud in the quiet and she shoves us all in and locks up before striding confidently into my old space. "Couch is too small though." It's a perfectly nice couch and she grins wickedly at my puzzlement. "To small for foursome cuddling, baby girl! We'll have to go shopping this weekend before getting back to the investigative grind."

Calleigh follows Abby quietly and Ziva pulls me along in their wake. Through their eyes, I see this house for the first time, each corner and window and piece of furniture. We hash out a few changes that will be needed to accommodate our numbers, ending with Abby's wry comment. "Only two bedrooms? We're gonna be crowded chickies."

"Wait, I forgot," I perk up and herd them towards the sliding door that leads to the backyard. "If you can brave the drizzle, let me show you."

"A pool!" Abby squeals and I have to laugh.

"This is Miami, Abs. Trust me that a pool is a near necessity. There it is."

When we first discussed moving back here, I wanted to make an addition to the living space. Four people need much more room than one, or even two. I even had the name and number of a reputable contractor, and only needed to call him to get the work started. But the more we discussed the move, and the needs of our household, it became all too clear that this townhouse -- my sanctuary after the hell of Nick's abuse -- is just too small and crowded for us to feel truly comfortable. But it will suffice until we find that perfect place that will satisfy all four of us. I know it will happen.

Thankfully, the mother-in-law efficiency in the back of my property was still in good shape, if sadly neglected from disuse. Rather than work with a contractor to make changes that would take far too much time to complete, Dace checked in with Darien Roberts, the Spades baron of Miami, and found an interior designer who would work with me to do some renovations on said efficiency. I knew it was a gamble to work with a virtual stranger only by phone and email, but I trusted Dace and her impressions of Mr. Roberts. fortunately, I rolled a lucky number and the structure now truly blends in perfectly with the property and the surrounding neighborhood. Oh, I'm going to miss this place when we move, but for now it will be worth it.

"What is it?" Ziva asks, accepting the key I hold out.

"A bonus room of sorts. After all, we're a big family now and need more space."

++ Calleigh ++

To our group delight, the structure is like a grown-up playhouse, painted a soft palette of colors that blend with the jungle-like backyard and every window is festooned with planting boxes. Inside is a completely finished space with slate floors, central A/C, and a tiny wet bar. The oversized French doors overlook the pool and the back of the house. When I'd lived here with Nat for those couple of weeks, I had seen this building out here, but never really paid it any attention. It wasn't like I was distracted or anything…

"It's nearly four hundred square feet and came with the house when I bought it," Nat muses as we fawn over the space. "Gives us a bonus room for office space, or a workout space, or whatever. According to the original owner, this was as big as the contractor thought he could go. I think he was right. It's one of those shed kits, believe it or not and they had him finish it out like it was a house. Did a nice job, too."

"I'll say," Abby enthuses. "If we plan it right, this can totally be a multi-purpose space. Awesome. Thanks, Nat, for thinking about us."

Natalia gracefully accepts Abby's hug and sweet kisses, giggling when we turn it into a dogpile of a group cuddle, there in the middle of this spectacular surprise.

We while away the rest of Thursday going through the things we had shipped ahead, starting the process of getting our lives in order. Abby makes a massive grocery order online and we'll be grateful for some food in the house. Thankfully, Nat's favorite Thai place is still in business and stocks us up with plenty of good eating for the night.

We're a quiet bunch, sprawled out in front of the television watching _Star Wars_ , of all the odd things. Despite Abby's predictions, we've managed to all squeeze onto the couch, though it's not the most comfortable of cuddles. Ziva took the corner furthest from the floor lamp and Natalia is mostly draped all over her, while I do the same to Abby, my shoulder and head resting on Nat.

I'm asleep before Luke has left his desert world for galactic adventure.

++ Abby ++

(10-13-06)

It's always weird to wake up in a new place, especially since I've never done much traveling. Thankfully, the familiar group dogpile leads to some morning calisthenics, cut short by the arrival of a ridiculous amount of groceries. Then we go shopping for a few key pieces of furniture that turns into a wandering tour of this new home city of ours.

When Calleigh spots the couch, tapping me to point it out in a shop window, my squeal is not feigned. The employee looks bemused as I rush in to throw myself on the sleek sculpture of creamy off-white leather. Only Nat looks like she needs convincing, so I yank her down onto the cushy surface and expertly twist to straddle her smaller body, pressing her deep into the leather. "See? Not too firm, not too soft, and can handle at least four, 'specially since we're friendly-like." Despite the public place, Nat smiles faintly, holding my gaze with her own. "Now, if it were up to me, I'd want it in jet black, or a hooker red, but we can accessorize." My queeny lisp makes Nat smile wider and I know the sweet couch is ours.

We scandalize one clerk and amuse the hell out of the other with a few hot kisses, Nat's hands looped carelessly into my belt, half caressing my ass. Chuckling at the antics, our packmates get delivery and payment set up before we're outside again where it looks like the storm is breaking up.

As shafts of liquidy-looking sunshine appear and disappear over our new city, I have to muse thoughtfully. "Y'know, I'm not the biggest fan of the sun, but I see the appeal of it being out most of the year."

Their smiles are agreement enough.

++ Calleigh ++

When I left here, I honestly believed that it was for good.

Because of that, the very familiarity of the place feels strange; the faces like those I knew in another life. They look shocked as I smile tentatively and welcome their various types of hellos. Max is the funniest, as she lights up like a firecracker and very carefully sets aside what she's working on to race out and pounce on Nat and myself both.

"Horatio told us you guys were actually coming back," she gushes, "but I think we thought it was all some sort of joke!"

"No, no," Nat reassures her with a chuckle. "It's all true. Max, this is the rest of the gang, Ziva David and Abby Sciuto. Guys, this is our best DNA tech, Max Valera."

"Beautiful name, David," Max compliments Ziva, shaking her hand and carefully rolling out the exotic 'dah-veed'.

"Thank you, Max. I am looking forward to working with such a big staff."

"You guys were NCIS out of DC, right? I've read some of your work, Abby. I look forward to your expertise on some of the weirdness we get in here."

And just like that, we've lost Abby for a bit as she stands with Max at the glass wall of the DNA lab and talks shop. The detective part of my brain is grateful that Abby makes no move to go inside, since we're not actually on the clock right now.

"Calleigh! Hey!"

And I'm shocked at how reluctant I am to see him.

++ Natalia ++

Standing close to Ziva's back, I touch the side of my skull to hers and slip a hand to rest on her hip. There is no perceptible tension in her lithe frame, but she relaxes minutely anyway. The power I hold over this woman never ceases to humble me.

The sound of someone calling Calleigh's name has us looking to see who it is. The man walking toward us is a grinning idiot, with eyes only for Calleigh as he saunters over and scoops her into a bear hug and attempts to kiss her. I don't need to have Ziva's enhanced senses to see that she's uncomfortable with him, but we stay where we are.

Even as Ziva growls faintly under her breath at this strange man.

"It's gonna be great to work with you again, Officer Pretty," he says smoothly as he sets Calleigh down and the tableau goes still and cool when he finally takes note of Ziva and me. The dark eyes narrow slightly as he watches my Sentinel staring at him like a hawk, and I'm sure he doesn't miss my easy touch on her body.

When Calleigh offers names, Ziva nods politely but does not offer a hand. I consider it, but decline when he lets his eyes trail suggestively up my body, never quite meeting my gaze. Bemused by the unspoken threat in this new man, this Jake Berkeley person retreats, leaving our pack confused and more than a bit uncomfortable.

"Really, Calleigh?" Ziva questions archly. At least Calleigh has the grace to be embarrassed.

"Hey, I never said he was a good choice," she defends herself weakly, secretly glad to get this particular piece of dirty laundry aired out hopefully for good. "Besides, I didn't have any of you around back then, did I?"

For a moment, Ziva continues to stare at her disbelievingly while Calleigh does her best to pout prettily at her, which only makes me and Abby giggle softly. And then Ziva rolls her eyes expressively. "Fine. But I do not like or trust him. And if he ever looks at any of you like he looked at my _neshama sheli_ again, he will lose body parts." And with that, she gestures that the tour should continue, taking my hand and smiling faintly. I don't doubt the veracity of her claim, nor do I think that Abby or Calleigh take it lightly.

We wander around for another half hour, taking in the layout and meeting up with coworkers. Our DC packmates marvel over the seemingly endless translucent walls, despite being warned that it was not just Las Vegas that had the decorating scheme. Ziva comments that she will feel like a fish in a glass and we refrain from correcting the small mistake.

++ Ziva ++

All in all, I like this new place. While this strange penchant for glass walls makes me feel exposed, they also allow me to keep an eye out on my surroundings. Even the holding cells have perforated metal walls, adding to the open feel. There have been a few strange looks regarding our tight-knit pack, obviously so much more than friends, and I can only assume that Horatio and Alexx broke the news as best they could.

It does not matter even if they all hated us for our unusual love. Together we are strong enough to survive anything, even my dark past. Part of me still marvels at the freedom President Bartlet bartered for me, cumulating in a phone call from my father, cutting me loose from the Mossad with no strings attached.

I cannot help but wonder what Bartlet told him.

That freedom is a weight from my shoulders that makes me lightheaded sometimes. Oh, I will forever look over my shoulder and wait for the other sock to drop, but those are habits I cannot and will not unlearn.

After a brief stop to see Horatio, we are off to the morgue to speak with Alexx as well. It smells faintly different than Ducky's space in Washington, just as the Las Vegas labs did. I do not participate in the conversation, skulking about the pristine space, taking in the smells, and sounds, and sights. This visit to allow me to imprint this place was an excellent idea and I will have to thank Calleigh properly for her insistence.

And I must thank Abby for that lovely couch that will be so much fun!

And Natalia for sharing her home, and for just being her.

Looking at the rest of my pack, chatting amiably with Alexx, I feel that almost suffocating adoration, so foreign and so intoxicating. Everything that I have learned or experienced, the good and the bad, led me to them, Calleigh and Abby nearly as much as my bonded Guide.

As though we share one mind, each of their lovely gazes comes to mine and we know that it is time for us as a unit, away from all others, to once more bond in preparation for a very public life.

Bidding farewell to Alexx, we retreat to the patchy sunlight and I breathe in this sultry place.

It feels good.


End file.
